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LITTLE MASTERPIECES 



Little Masterpieces 

Edited by Bliss Perry 



FRANCIS BACON 

ESSAYS 
Or Counsels Civil and Moral 



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NEW YORK 

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 

1901 



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" ,,L L !«HARY OF? 

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COPVR/QHT ENTRy 

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Copyright, igoi, by 

DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Editor's Introduction," ix 

Essays. „ 

Of Truth, T . 3 

Of Death, 6 

Of Revenge, 9 

Of Adversity, 11 

Of Parents and Children, ... 13 

Of Marriage and Single Life, ... 15 

Of Love, 18 

Of Great Place, 20 

Of Boldness, 26 

Of Goodness, and Goodness of Nature, 28 

Of Nobility, 32 

Of Atheism, 34 

Of Superstition, 38 

Of Travel, 41 

Of Empire, 44 

Of Counsel, 51 

Of Delays, 58 

Of Cunning, 59 

Of Wisdom for a Man's Self, ... 65 

Of Innovations, 67 

Of Dispatch, ....... 69 

Of Seeming Wise, 71 



Contents 

PAGE 

Essays, 

Of Friendship, 73 

Of Expense, 84 

Of Regiment of Health, .... 86 

Of Suspicion, 88 

Of Discourse, 90 

Of Plantations, 93 

Of Riches, ....... 97 

Of Prophecies, 102 

Of Ambition, . . . . . .106 

Of Nature in Men, 109 

Of Custom and Education, . . . 112 

Of Fortune, 114. 

Of Usury, 117 

Of Youth and Age, .... 123 

Of Beauty, 126 

Of Deformity, 127 

Of Building, 129 

Of Gardens, . . . ^ . . 135 

Of Negociating, 145 

Of Followers and Friends, . . . 147 

Of Studies, 149 

Of Faction, 151 

Of Ceremonies and Respects, . . . 154 

OfPra.se, 156 

Of Vaii Glory, 159 

Of Honbur and Reputation, . . 161 

Of Judiature, 164 

Of Anger, 170 

Of Vicissitude of Things, . . . .173 



Editor's Introduction 



EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION. 

During the life-time of Francis Bacon three 
editions of his essays were printed. The 
first appeared in 1597, and contained ten 
essays only. It was reprinted, without 
changes, at least three times before the pub- 
lication of the second editiori in 1612. This 
second edition comprised forty essays. The 
third and final edition, published by Bacon 
himself in 1625, the year before his death, 
contained fifty-eight. The present volume in- 
cludes all of these but seven ; regretable limi- 
tations of space compelling the omission of 
such treatises" as in the judgment of the 
editor could, for the specific purposes of this 
volume, with the least reluctance be spared. 

In any collection of the chief ornaments of 
English prose, Bacon's essays take an un- 
disputed place. None of his other writings 
belong so naturally in a series of Little 
Masterpieces, though there is here and there 
a passage from Bacon's scientific and philo- 
sophical works, — such as the famous para- 

* Namely, Of Unity in Religion, of Simulation 
and Dissimulation, Of Envy, Of Seditions and 
Troubles, Of the True Greatness of Kingdoms 
and Estates, Of Masks and Triumphs, and Of 
Suitors. 



Editor's Introduction 

graphs of the "Novum Orgarmm" describing 
the "idols" of the tribe, the den, the market- 
place, and the theatre, — which one is tempted 
to include. The modern reader of the essays 
need not be unduly troubled by his probable 
ignorance of Bacon's immense service else- 
where, as a philosophic thinker and a re- 
former of scientific method. These shrewd 
comments upon the actual world are writ- 
ten, not for scientists and philosophers, but 
for men of affairs ; they come home, as their 
author wished, "to men's business and bos- 
oms." In their mastery of human motives, 
their aptness of phrase, their sharp flashes of 
truth, Bacon's detached and almost inconse- 
quent reflections upon life have the accent of 
great literature. 

It is impossible here to do more than hint 
at the gradual ripening of experience which 
the essays reveal. When the first edition 
appeared, Bacon was thirty-six — the age of 
Lord Byron at his death. He had already 
been a brilliant lawyer, a political reformer, 
a member of Parliament, a courtier, and a 
favorite of the great Lord Essex, then at the 
summit of his power. When the second edition 
of the essays appeared, in 1612, Bacon was 
fifty-one. Much had happened in those fif- 
teen years, while the essays were slowly 
growing from ten in number to forty, in 
the grave statesman's "commonplace-book." 
For in 1601 he had come to his first employ- 



Editor's Introduction 

ment as Queen's Counsel, serving — with a 
coolness and skill for which the world has 
never forgiven him — as the prosecutor of his 
benefactor Essex. In 1605, he had published 
''The Advancement of Learning." In 1607 
King James had appointed him Solicitor 
General. More rapid still -were the steps by 
which he rose to power after 1612. In 1613 
he was made Attorney General; in 1618, 
Lord Chancellor, and was raised to the 
peerage as Baron Yerulam. In 1620 he pub- 
lished the ' 'Novum Organum." In January, 
1621, he kept his sixtieth birthday, with Ben 
Jonson for a poet celebrant ; and in the same 
month he was created Viscount of St. Albans. 

Then came his strange and sudden fall. 
An unfriendly House of Commons, the hos- 
tility of his rival, Sir Edward Coke, and a 
gust of royal displeasure were enough, fol- 
lowing upon some frankly confessed indiscre- 
tions in his high office, to leave Bacon a 
ruined man. Proudly and coldly, as was his 
wont, he betook himself anew to the pursuit 
of science. "For my name and memory," he 
wrote in his will, in December, 1625, "I leave 
it to men's charitable speeches and to foreign 
nations and the next ages." It was in that 
very year that the last edition of the essays 
was published by the broken statesman. 
The next year he died. 

Bacon's essays are thus full of what used 
to be called "worldly wisdom." They teach 



Editor's Introduction 

with "saltness," if not "bitterness," manifold 
truths concerning great and perpetually im- 
portant spheres of conduct and character. 
With Elizabethan versatility, they touch in 
a grave sportiveness upon a hundred unex- 
pected themes. They penetrate to the heart 
of many a close-thicketed matter, hewing 
with short, trenchant strokes, like those of a 
Roman sword. Yet for all this trenchancy, 
they keep a certain loftiness of style; one 
thinks of their author as of Elizabeth's 
"young Lord Keeper," who had in his very 
youth taken all knowledge to be his prov- 
ince, and who never lost that boyish sense 
of magnificent horizons. The essays lack, it 
is true, as their author likewise 'lacked, the 
glow that radiates from moral enthusiasm. 
Bacon was a cold friend, and the essays are 
unrivalled counsels of demeanor rather than 
a key to things spiritually discerned. But 
like the essays of Montaigne, which preceded 
them by a short interval, they are so frankly 
human, so dispassionate in their inquiries, so 
sane in their judgments, that they at once 
liberalize and fortify the reader's mind. After 
all, it is by the courtiers and politicians, the 
far-ranging sceptics and searchers, as well as 
by the saints and martyrs, that the great 
literature of the world is written. 

Bliss Perry. 



THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY. 

To the Right Honourable my very good Lo. 
the Duke of Buckingham His Grace, Lo. 
High Admiral of England. 

Excellent Lo. 

Salomon says; " A good name is as a pre- 
cious ointment;" and I assure myself, such 
will jour Grace's name be, with posterity. 
For your fortune and merit both have been 
eminent. And you have planted things that 
are like to last. I do now publish my Es- 
says*; which, of all my other works, have 
been most current: For that, as it seems, 
they come home to men's business and bos- 
oms. I have enlarged them both in number 
and weight ; so that they are indeed a new 
work. I thought it therefore agreeable to 
my affection and obligation to your Grace, 
to prefix your name before them, both in 
English, and in Latin. For I do conceive 
that the Latin volume of them (being in the 
universal language) may last as long as 
Books last. My Instauration I dedicated to 
the King : My History of Henry the Seventh 
(which I have now also translated into 
Latin) and my portions of Natural History, 
to the Prince: And these I dedicate to your 



The Epistle Dedicatory 

Grace: Being of the best fruits that by the 
good encrease which God gives to my pen 
and labours I could yield. God lead your 
Grace by the hand. 

Your Grace's most obliged and 
faithful servant, 

Fr. St. Alban. 



Essays 



Essays or Councils Civil and Moral. 

OF TRUTH. 

"What is truth?" said jesting Pilate; and 
would not stay for an answer. Certainly 
there be that delight in giddiness, and count 
it a bondage to fix a belief; affecting free- 
will in thinking, as well as in acting. And 
though the sects of philosophers of that kind 
be gone, yet there remain certain discours- 
ing wits, which are of the same veins, 
though there be not so much blood in them 
as was in those of the ancients. But it is 
not only the difficulty and labour which men 
take in finding out of truth ; nor again, that 
when it is found it imposeth upon men's 
thoughts; that doth bring lies in favour; 
but a natural though corrupt love of the 
lie itself. One of the later schools of the 
Grecians examineth the matter, and is at a 
stand to think what should be in it, that 
men should love lies, where neither they 
make for pleasure, as with poets, nor for 
advantage, as with the merchant; but for 
the lie's sake. But I cannot tell: this same 
truth is a naked and open day-light, that 
doth not show the masks and mummeries 
3 



Bacon 

and triumphs of the world, half so stately 
and daintily as candle-lights. Truth may 
perhaps come to the price of a pearl, that 
sheweth best by day, but it will not rise 
to the price of a diamond or carbuncle, that 
sheweth best in varied lights. A mixture of 
a lie doth ever add pleasure. Doth any man 
doubt, that if there were taken out of men's 
minds vain opinions, flattering hopes, false 
valuations, imaginations as one would, and 
the like, but it would leave the minds of a 
number of men poor shrunken things, full 
of melancholy and indisposition, andunpleas- 
ing to themselves? One of the fathers, in 
great severity, called poesy "vinum daemo- 
num" [devil' s-wine], because it filleth the 
imagination; and yet it is but with the 
shadow of a lie. But it is not. the lie that 
passeth through the mind, but the lie that 
sinketh in and settleth in it, that doth the 
hurt; such as we spake of before. But how- 
soever these things are thus in men's de- 
praved judgments and affections, yet truth, 
which only doth judge itself, teacheth that 
the enquiry of truth, which is the love-mak- 
ing, or wooing of it, the knowledge of truth, 
which is the presence of it, and the belief of 
truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the sov- 
ereign good of human nature. The first 
creature of God, in the works of the days, 
"was the light of the sense ; the last was the 
light of reason ; and his Sabbath work ever 
4 



Of Truth 

since, is the illumination of his Spirit. First, 
he breathed light upon the face of the mat- 
ter, or chaos ; then he breathed light into the 
face of man; and still he breatheth and in- 
spireth light into the face of his chosen. The 
poet that beautified the sect that was other- 
wise inferior to the rest, saith yet excellently 
well: "It is a pleasure to stand upon the 
shore, and to see ships tossed upon the sea : 
a pleasure to stand in the window of a 
castle, and to see a battle and the advent- 
ures thereof below : but no pleasure is com- 
parable to the standing upon the vantage 
ground of truth, (a hill not to be com- 
manded, and where the air is always clear 
and serene, ) and to see the errors, and wan- 
derings, and mists, and tempests in the vale 
below;" so always that this prospect be 
with pity, and not with swelling or pride. 
Certainly, it is heaven upon earth, to have a 
man's mind move in charity, rest in provi- 
dence, and turn upon the poles of truth. 

To pass from theological and philosophical 
truth, to the truth of civil business ; it will 
be acknowledged even by those that prac- 
tise it not, that clean and round dealing is 
the honour of man's nature ; and that mix- 
ture of falsehood is like alloy in coin of gold 
and silver, which may make the metal work 
the better, but it embaseth it. For these 
winding and crooked courses are the goings 
of the serpent ; which goeth basely upon the 
5 



Bacon 

belly, and not upon the feet. There is no 
vice that doth so cover a man with shame 
as to be found false and perfidious. And 
therefore Montaigne saith prettily, when he 
inquired the reason, why the word of the 
lie should be such a disgrace and such an 
odious charge. Saith he, "If it be well 
weighed, to say that a man lieth, is as much 
to say, as that he is brave towards God 
and a coward towards men." For a lie faces 
God, and shrinks from man. Surely the 
wickedness of falsehood and breach of faith 
cannot possibly be so highly expressed, as 
in that it shall be the last peal to call the 
judgments of God upon the generations of 
men; it being foretold, that when Christ 
cometh, "he shall not find faith upon the 
earth." 



OF DEATH. 

Men fear Death, as children fear to go into 
the dark; and as that natural fear in chil- 
dren is increased with tales, so is the other. 
Certainly, the contemplation of death, as the 
wages of sin, and passage to another world, 
is holy and religious; but the fear of it, as a 
tribute due unto nature, is weak. Yet in re- 
ligious meditations there is sometimes mix- 
ture of vanity and of superstition. You 
shall read in some of the friars' books of 



Of Death 

mortification, that a man should think with 
himself what the pain is if he have but his 
finger's end pressed or tortured, and thereby 
imagine what the pains of death are, when 
the whole body is corrupted and dissolved; 
when many times death passeth with less 
pain than the torture of a limb : for the most 
vital parts are not the quickest of sense. 
And by him that spake only as a philoso- 
pher and natural man, it was well said, 
"Pompa mortis magis terret, quam mors 
ipsa:" [It is the accompaniments of death 
that are frightful rather than death itself] 
Groans and convulsions, and a discoloured 
face, and friends weeping, and blacks, and 
obsequies, and the like, shew death terrible. 
It is worthy the observing, that there is no 
passion in the mind of man so weak, but it 
mates and masters the fear of death; and 
therefore death is no such terrible enemy 
when a man hath so many attendants about 
him that can win the combat for him. Re- 
venge triumphs over death ; Love slights it ; 
Honour aspireth to it ; Grief flieth to it ; 
Fear pre-occupateth it : nay we read, after 
Otho the emperor had slain himself, Pity 
(which is the tenderest affections) provoked 
many to die, out of mere compassion to their 
sovereign, and as the truest sort of followers. 
Nay, Seneca ?cdds niceness and satiety: 
"Cogita quamdiu eadem faceris; mori velle, 
non tantum fortis, aut miser, sed etiam 



Bacon 

fastidiosus protest." A man would die, 
though he were neither valiant nor miser- 
able, only upon a weariness to do the same 
thing so oft and over and over. It is no less 
worthy to observe, how little alteration in 
good spirits the approaches of death make; 
for they appear to be the same men till the 
last instant. Augustus Caesar died in a 
compliment: "Liva, conjugii nostra memor, 
vive et vale:" [farewell, Livia; and forget 
not the days of our marriage.] Tiberius in 
dissimulation; as Tacitus saith of him, "Jam 
Tiberium vires et corpus, non dissimulatio, 
deserebant:" [his powers of body were 
gone, but his power of dissimulation still 
remained.] Vespasian in a jest ; sitting upon 
the stool, "Ut puto Deus no:" [I think I am 
becoming a god.] Galba with a sentence; 
"Feri, si ex re sit populi Romani:" [strike, 
if it be for the good of Rome:] holding forth 
his neck: Septimus Severus in despatch; 
"Adeste, si quid mihi restat agendum:" 
[make haste, if there is anything more for 
me to do.] And the like. Certainly the 
Stoics bestowed too much cost upon death, 
and by their great preparations made it ap- 
pear more fearful. Better, saith he, "qui 
finem vitae extremum inter numera ponat 
naturae:" [who accounts the close of life as 
one of the benefits of nature.] It is as nat- 
ural to die as to be born; and to a little 
infant, perhaps, the one is as painful as the 



Of Revenge 

other. He that dies in an earnest pursuit, is 
like one that is wounded in hot blood ; who, 
for the time, scarce feels the hurt ; and there- 
fore a mind fixed and bent upon somewhat 
that is good, doth avert the dolours of 
death. But, above all, believe it, the sweet- 
est canticle is, "Nunc dimittis;" when a man 
hath obtained worthy ends and expecta- 
tions. Death hath this also ; that it openeth 
the gate to good fame, and extinguisheth 
envy: "Extinctus amabitur idem:" [the 
same man that was envied while he lived, 
shall be loved when he is gone.] 



OF REVENGE. 

Revenge is a kind of wild justice; which 
the more man's nature runs to, the more 
ought law to weed it out. For as for the 
first wrong, it doth but offend the law; but 
the revenge of that wrong putteth the law- 
out of office. Certainly, in taking revenge, 
a man is but even with his enemy; but in 
passing it over, he is superior; for it is a 
prince's part to pardon. And Solomon, I 
am sure, saith, "It is the glory of a man to 
pass by an offence." That which is past is 
gone, and irrevocable, and wise men have 
enough to do with things present and to 
come ; therefore they do but trifle with them- 
9 



Bacon 

selves, that labour in past matters. There 
is no man doth a wrong for the wrong's 
sake; but thereby to purchase himself profit, 
or pleasure, or honour, or the like. Therefore 
why should I be angry with a man for lov- 
ing himself better than me? And if any man 
should do wrong merely out of ill-nature, 
why, yet it is but like the thorn or brier, 
which prick and scratch, because they can 
do no other. The most tolerable sort of re- 
venge is for those wrongs which there is 
no law to remedy ; but then let a man take 
heed the revenge be such there is no law to 
punish; else a man's enemy is still before 
hand, and it is two for one. Some, when 
they take revenge, are desirous the party 
should know whence it cometh. This the 
more generous; for the delight seemeth to 
be not so much in doing the hurt? as in mak- 
ing the party repent. But base and crafty 
cowards are like the arrow that flieth in 
the dark. Cosmus, Duke of Florence, had a 
desperate saying against perfidious or neglect- 
ing friends, as if those wrongs were unpar- 
donable. "You shall read," saith he, "that 
we are commanded to forgive our enemies; 
but you never read that we are commanded 
to forgive our friends." But yet the spirit 
of Job was in a better tune: "Shall we," 
saith he, "take good at God's hands, and 
not be content to take evil also?" And so of 
friends in a proportion. This is certain, that 
10 



Of Adversity 

a man that studieth revenge keeps his own 
wounds green, which otherwise would heal 
and do well. Public revenges are for the 
most part fortunate; as that for the death 
of Caesar ; for the death of Pertinax ; for the 
death of Henry the Third of France; and 
many more. But in private revenges it is 
not so. Nay, rather vindictive persons live 
the life of witches; who, as they are mis- 
chievous, so end they infortunate. 



OF ADVERSITY. 

It was a high speech of Seneca (after the 
manner of the Stoics), "that the good things 
which belong to prosperity are to be wished, 
but the good things that belong to adver- 
sity are to be admired." "Bona rerum se- 
cundarum optabilia; adversarum mirabilia." 
Certainly, if miracles be the command over 
nature, they appear most in adversity. It 
is yet a higher speech of his than the other 
(much too high for a heathen), "It is true 
greatness to have in one the frailty of a 
man, and the security of a God." "Vere 
magnum habere fragilitatem hominis, securi- 
tatem Dei." This would have done better 
in poesy, where transcendencies are more 
allowed. And the poets indeed have been 
busy with it; for it is in effect the thing 
11 



Bacon 

which is figured in that strange fiction of 
the ancient poets, which seemeth not to be 
without mystery; nay, and to have some 
approach to the state of a Christian, "that 
Hercules, when he went to unbind Prome- 
theus (by whom human nature is repre- 
sented), sailed the length of the great ocean 
in an earthen pot or pitcher;" lively describ- 
ing Christian resolution, that saileth in the 
frail bark of the flesh through the waves of 
the world. But to speak in a mean. The 
virtue of Prosperity is temperance ; the virtue 
of Adversity is fortitude ; which in morals is 
the more heroical virtue. Prosperity is the 
blessing of the Old Testament; Adversity is 
the blessing of the New ; which carrieth the 
greater benediction, and the clearer revela- 
tion of God's favour. Yet even in the old 
Testament, if you listen to David's harp, 
you shall hear as many hearse-like airs as 
carols; and the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath 
laboured more in describing the afflictions of 
Job than the felicities of Salomon. Prosper- 
ity is not without many fears and distastes ; 
and Adversity is not without comforts and 
hopes. We see in needle-works and embroi- 
deries, it is more pleasing to have a lively 
work upon a sad and solemn ground, than 
to have a dark and melancholy work upon 
a lightsome ground: judge therefore of the 
pleasure of the heart by the pleasure of the 
eye. Certainly virtue is like precious odours, 
12 



Of Parents and Children 

most fragrant when they are incensed or 
crushed : for Prosperity doth best discover 
vice, but Adversity doth best discover vir- 
tue. 



OF PARENTS AND CHILDREN. 

The joys of parents are secret; and so are 
their griefs and fears. They cannot utter the 
one ; nor they will not utter the other. Chil- 
dren sweeten labours ; but they make misfor- 
tunes more bitter. They increase the cares of 
life; but they mitigate the remembrance of 
death. The perpetuity by generation is com- 
mon to beasts ; but memory, merit, and noble 
works are proper to men. And surely a man 
shall see the noblest works and foundations 
have proceeded from childless men; which 
have sought to express the images of their 
minds, where those of their bodies have 
failed. So the care of posterity is most in 
them that have no posterity. They that 
are the first raisers of their houses are 
most indulgent towards their children, be- 
holding them as the continuance not only 
of their kind, but of their work; and so both 
children and creatures. 

That difference in affection of parents to- 
wards their several children is many times 
unequal ; and sometimes unworthy ; especially 
in the mother; as Solomon saith, "A wise 
13 



Bacon 

son rejoiceth the father, but an ungracious 
son shames the mother." A man shall see, 
where there is a house full of children, one 
or two of the eldest respected, and the 
youngest made wantons ; but in the midst 
some that are as it were forgotten, who 
many times nevertheless prove the best. 
The illiberality of parents in allowance to- 
wards their children is an harmful error; 
makes them base; acquaints them with 
shifts; makes them sort with mean com- 
pany; and makes them surfeit more when 
they come to plenty. And therefore the proof 
is best when men keep their authority to- 
wards their children, but not their purse. 
Men have a foolish manner (both parents 
and school-masters and servants) in creat- 
ing and breeding an emulation between 
brothers during childhood, which many times 
sorteth to discord when they are men, and 
disturbeth families. The Italians make little 
difference between children and nephews or 
near kinsfolks; but so they be of the lump, 
they care not, though they pass not through 
their own body. And, to say truth, in nature 
it is much a like matter; insomuch that we 
see a nephew sometimes resembleth an uncle 
or a kinsman more than his own parent; 
as the blood happens. Let parents choose 
betimes the vocations and courses they mean 
their children should take; for then they are 
most flexible; and let them not too much 



Of Marriage and Single Life 

apply themselves to the disposition of their 
children, as thinking they will take best to 
that which they have most mind to. It is 
true, that if the affection, or aptness of the 
children be extraordinary, then it is good not 
to cross it ; but generally the precept is good, 
"optimum elige, suave et facile illud facie tcon- 
suetudo:" [choose the best — custom will 
make it pleasant and easy.] Younger 
brothers are commonly fortunate, but seldom 
or never where the elder are disinherited. 



OF MARRIAGE AND SINGLE LIFE. 

He that hath wife and children hath given 
hostages to fortune ; for they are impediments 
to great enterprises, either of virtue or 
mischief. Certainly the best works, and of 
greatest merit for the public, have proceeded 
from the unmarried or childless men; which 
both in affection and means have married 
and endowed the public. Yet it were great 
reason that those that have children should 
have greatest care of future times; unto 
which they know they must transmit their 
dearest pledges. Some there are, who 
though they lead a single life, yet their 
thoughts do end with themselves, and ac- 
count future times impertinencies. Nay, there 
are some other that account wife and chil- 



Bacon 

dren but as bills of charges. Nay more, there 
are some foolish rich covetous men, that 
take a pride in having no children, because 
they may be thought so much the richer. 
For perhaps they have heard some talk, 
"Such an one is a great rich man," and an- 
other except to it, "Yea, but he hath a 
great charge of children;" as if it were an 
abatement to his riches. But the most or- 
dinary cause of a single life is liberty, es- 
pecially in certain self-pleasing and humor- 
ous minds, which are so sensible of every 
restraint, as they -will go near to think 
their girdles and garters to be bonds and 
shackles. Unmarried men are best friends, 
best masters, best servants ; but not always 
best subjects ; for they are light to run away ; 
and almost all fugitives are of that condi- 
tion. A single life doth well with church- 
. men ; for charity will hardly water the 
ground where it must first fill a pool. It is 
indifferent for judges and magistrates; for 
if they be facile and corrupt, you shall have 
a servant five times worse than a wife. For 
soldiers, I find the generals commonly in 
their hortatives put men in mind of their 
wives and children; and I think the despis- 
ing of marriage among the Turks maketh 
the vulgar soldier more base. Certainly wife 
and children are a kind of discipline of hu- 
manity; and single men, though they may 
be many times more charitable, because their 
16 



Of Marriage and Single Life 

means are less exhaust, vet, on the other 
side, they are more cruel and hard-hearted, 
(good to make severe inquisitors,) because 
their tenderness is not so oft called upon. 
Grave natures, led by custom, and there- 
fore constant, are commonly loving hus- 
bands; as was said of Ulysses, "vetulam 
suam praetulit immortalitati:" [he preferred 
his old wife to immortality.] Chaste women 
are often proud and fro ward, as presuming 
upon the merit of their chastity. It is one of 
the best bonds both of chastity and obe- 
dience, in the wife, if she think her husband 
wise ; which she will never do if she find him 
jealous. Wives are young men's mistresses; 
companions for middle age; and old men's 
nurses. So as a man may have a quarrel 
to marry when he will. But yet he was 
reputed one of the wise men, that made 
answer to the question when a man should 
marry? — "A young man not yet, an elder 
man not at all." It is often seen that bad 
husbands have very good wives ; whether it 
be that it raiseth the price of their husband's 
kindness when it comes; or that the wives 
take a pride in their patience. But this never 
fails, if the bad husbands were of their own 
choosing, against their friends' consent; for 
then they will be sure to make good their 
own folly. 



17 



Bacon 



OF LOVE. 



The stage is more beholding to Love, than 
the life of man. For as to the stage, love is 
even matter of comedies, and now and then 
of tragedies ; but in life it doth much mis- 
chief; sometimes like a syren, sometimes like 
a fury. You may observe, that amongst all 
the great and worthy persons (whereof the 
memory remaineth, either ancient or recent), 
there is not one that hath been trans- 
ported to the mad degree of love: which 
shews that great spirits and great business 
do keep out this weak passion. You must 
except, nevertheless, Marcus Antonius, the 
half partner of the empire of Rome, and 
Appius Claudius, the decemvir and law- 
giver ; whereof the former was indeed a vo- 
luptuous man, and inordinate ; but the latter 
was an austere and wise man: and there- 
fore it seems (though rarely) that love can 
find entrance not only into an open heart, 
but also into a heart well fortified, if watch 
be not well kept. It is a poor saying of Epi- 
curus, "Satis magnum alter alteri theatrum 
sumus:" [Each is to other a theatre large 
enough] ; as if man, made for the contempla- 
tion of heaven and all noble objects, should 
do nothing but kneel before a little idol, and 
make himself a subject, though not of the 
18 



Of Love 

mouth (as beasts are), yet of the eye; which 
was given him for higher purposes. It is 
a strange thing to note the excess of this 
passion, and how it braves the nature and 
value of things, by this; that the speaking 
in a perpetual hyperbole is comely in noth- 
ing but in love. Neither is it merely in the 
phrase; for whereas it hath been well said 
that the arch flatterer, with whom all the 
petty flatterers have intelligence, is a man's 
self; certainly the lover is more. For there 
was never proud man thought so absurdly 
well of himself as the lover doth of the per- 
son loved; and therefore it was well said, 
1 'That it is impossible to love and to be 
wise." Neither doth this weakness appear 
to others only, and not to the party loved; 
but to the loved most of all, except the love 
be reciproque. For it is a true rule, that love 
is ever rewarded either with the reciproque 
or with an inward or secret contempt. By 
how much the more men ought to beware 
of this passion, which loseth not only other 
things, but itself. As for the other losses, the 
poet's relation doth well figure them: That 
he that preferred Helena, quitted the gifts 
of Juno and Pallas. For whosoever esteem- 
eth too much of amorous affection quitteth 
both riches and wisdom. This passion hath 
his floods in the very times of weakness; 
which are great prosperity and great ad- 
versity ; though this latter hath been less ob- 
19 



Bacon 

served: both which times kindle love, and 
make it more fervent, and therefore shew 
it to be the child of folly. They do best, 
who if they cannot but admit love, yet 
make it keep quarter; and sever it wholly 
from their serious affairs and actions of life; 
for if it check once with business, it troub- 
leth men's fortunes, and maketh men that 
they can no ways be true to their own ends. 
I know not how, but martial men are given 
to love: I think it is but as they are given 
to wine ; for perils commonly ask to be paid 
in pleasures. There is in man's nature a 
secret inclination and motion towards love 
of others, which if it be not spent upon 
some one or a few, doth naturally spread 
itself towards many, and maketh men be- 
come humane and charitable; as it is seen 
sometime in friars. Nuptial love maketh 
mankind ; friendly love perfecteth it ; but 
wanton love corrupteth and embaseth it. 



OF GREAT PLACE. 

Men in great place are thrice servants : 
servants of the sovereign or state ; servants 
of fame; and servants of business. So as they 
have no freedom; neither in their persons, 
nor in their actions, nor in their times. It 
is a strange desire, to seek power and to lose 
20 



Of Great Place 

liberty: or to seek power over others and 
to lose power over a man's self. The rising 
unto place is laborious ; and by pains men 
come to greater pains; and it is sometimes 
base; and by indignities men come to dig- 
nities. The standing is slippery, and the re- 
gress is either a downfall, or at least an 
eclipse, which is a melancholy thing: "Cum 
non sis qui fueris, non esse cur velis vivere:" 
[When a man feels that he is no longer what 
he was, he loses all his interest in life.] 
Nay, retire men cannot when they would, 
neither will they when it were reason; but 
are impatient of privateness, even in age and 
sickness, which require the shadow ; like old 
townsmen, that will be still sitting at their 
street door, though thereby they offer age 
to scorn. Certainly great persons have need 
to borrow other men's opinions, to think 
themselves happy; for if they judge by their 
own feeling, they cannot find it: but if they 
think with themselves what other men think 
of them, and that other men would fain be 
as they are, then they are happy as it were 
by report ; when, perhaps, they find the con- 
trary within. For they are the first that find 
their own griefs, though they be the last 
that find their own faults. Certainh r men in 
great fortunes are strangers to themselves, 
and while they are in the puzzle of business 
they have no time to tend their health either 
of body or mind: "Illi mors gravis incubat, 
21 



Bacon 

qui notus nimis omnibus, ignotus moritur 
sibi:" [It is a sad fate for a man to die too 
well known to everybody else, and still 
unknown to himself.] In place there is 
licence to do good and evil; "whereof the lat- 
ter is a curse: for in evil the best condition 
is not to will; the second not to can. But 
power to do good is the true and lawful end 
of aspiring. For good thoughts (though 
God accept them), yet towards men are little 
better than good dreams, except they be put 
in act; and that cannot be without power 
and place, as the vantage and commanding 
ground. Merit and good works is the end of 
man's motion; and conscience ofthesameis 
the accomplishment of man's rest; for if a 
man can be partaker of God's theatre, he 
shall likewise be partaker of God's rest. "Et 
conversus Deus, ut aspiceret opera quae 
fecerunt manus sua?, vidit quod omnia essent 
bona nimis:" [And God turned to look upon 
the -works which his hands had made, and 
saw that all were very good ;] and then the 
sabbath. In the discharge of thy place set 
before thee the best examples; for imitation 
is a globe of precepts. And after a time set 
before thee thine own example ; and examine 
thyself strictly whether thou didst not best 
at first. Neglect not also the examples of 
those that have carried themselves ill in the 
same place ; not to set off thyself by taxing 
their memory, but to direct thyself what to 
22 



Of Great Place 

avoid. Reform, therefore, without bravery 
or scandal of former times and persons ; but 
yet set it down to thyself as well to create^ 
good precedents as to follow them. Reduce 
things to the first institution, and observe 
wherein and how they have degenerate ; but 
yet ask counsel of both times; of the an- 
cienter time, what is best ; and of the latter 
time, what is fittest. Seek to make thy 
course regular, that men may know before- 
hand what they may expect ; but be not too 
positive and peremptory ; and express thyself 
well when thou digressest from thy rule. Pre- 
serve the right of thy place; but stir not 
questions of jurisdiction : and rather assume 
thy right in silence and "de facto," than 
voice it with claims and challenges. Pre- 
serve likewise the rights of inferior places; 
and think it more honour to direct in chief 
than to be busy in all. Embrace and invite 
helps and advices touching the execution of 
thy place: and do not drive away such as 
bring thee information, as meddlers, but ac- 
cept of them in good part. The vices of au- 
thority are chiefly four; delays, corruption, 
roughness, and facility. For delays ; give easy 
access; keep times appointed; go through 
with that which is in hand, and interlace 
not business but of necessity. For corrup- 
tion; do not only bind thine own hands or 
thy servants' hands from taking, but bind 
the hands of suitors also from offering ; for 
23 



Bacon 

integrity used doth the one; but integrity 
professed, and with a manifest detestation 
of bribery, doth the other. And avoid not 
only the fault, but the suspicion. Whoso- 
ever is found variable, and changeth mani- 
festly without manifest cause, giveth sus- 
picion of corruption. Therefore always when 
thou changest thine opinion or course, pro- 
fess it plainly, and declare it, together with 
the reasons that move thee to change; and 
do not think to steal it. A servant or a 
favourite, if he be inward, and no other ap- 
parent cause of esteem, is commonly thought 
but a by-way to close corruption. For 
roughness ; it is a needless cause of discon- 
tent: severity breedeth fear, but roughness 
breedeth hate. Even reproofs from author- 
ity ought to be grave, and not taunting. 
As for facility; it is worse than bribery; for 
bribes come but now and then; but if im- 
portunity or idle respects lead a man, he 
shall never be without. As Salomon saith, 
"To respect persons is not good; for such a 
man will transgress for a piece of bread." 
It is most true that was anciently spoken, 
"A place sheweth the man;" and it sheweth 
some to the better and some to the worse. 
"Omnium consensu capax imperii, nisi im- 
perasset," [a man whom everybody would 
have thought fit for empire if he had not 
been emperor,] saith Tacitus of Galba; but of 
Vespasian he saith, "Solus imperantium, Yes- 
24 



Of Great Place 

pasianus mutatus in melius:" [He was the 
onlv emperor whom the possession of power 
changed for the better;] though the one was 
meant of sufficiency, the other of manners 
and affection. It is an assured sign of a 
worthy and generous spirit, whom honour 
amends. For honour is, or should be, the 
place of virtue; and as in nature things 
move violently to their place and calmly in 
their place, so virtue in ambition is violent, 
in authority settled and calm. All rising to 
great place is by a winding stair; and if 
there be factions, it is good to side a man's 
self whilst he is in the rising, and to bal- 
ance himself when he is placed. Use the 
memory of thy predecessor fairly and ten- 
derly ; for if thou dost not, it is a debt will 
sure be paid when thou art gone. If thou 
have colleagues, respect them, and rather 
call them when they look not for it, than 
exclude them when they have reason to look 
to be called. Be not too sensible or too re- 
membering of thy place in conversation and 
private answers to suitors ; but let it rather 
be said, "When he sits in place he is another 
man." 



25 



Bacon 



OF BOLDNESS. 



It is a trivial grammar-school text, but jet 
-worthy a wise man's consideration. Ques- 
tion was asked of Demosthenes, what was 
the chief part of an orator? He answered, 
action: what next? action: what next again? 
action. He said it that knew it best, and 
had by nature himself no advantage in that 
he commended. A strange thing, that that 
part of an orator -which is but superficial, 
and rather the virtue of a player, should be 
placed so high above those other noble parts 
of invention, elocution, and the rest; nay 
almost alone, as if it were all in all. But 
the reason is plain. There is in human na- 
ture generally more of the fool than of the 
wise ; and therefore those faculties by "which 
the foolish part of men's minds is taken are 
most potent. Wonderful like is the case of 
Boldness, in civil business ; what first? Bold- 
ness: what second and third? Boldness. And 
yet boldness is a child of ignorance and base- 
ness, far inferior to other parts. But never- 
theless it doth fascinate and bind hand and 
foot those that are either shallow in judg- 
ment or -weak in courage, which are the 
greatest part ; yea, and prevaileth with wise 
men at weak times. Therefore we see it hath 
done wonders in popular states; but with 
26 



Of Boldness 

senates and princes less ; and more ever upon 
the first entrance of bold persons into ac- 
tion than soon after; for boldness is an ill 
keeper of promise. Surely as there are moun- 
tebanks for the natural body, so are there 
mountebanks for the politic body ; men that 
undertake great cures, and perhaps have 
been lucky in two or three experiments, but 
want the grounds of science, and therefore 
cannot hold out. Nay you shall see a bold 
fellow many times do Mahomet's miracle. 
Mahomet made the people believe that he 
would call an hill to him, and from the top 
of it offer up his prayers for the observers 
of his law. The people assembled; Ma- 
homet called the hill to come to him, again 
and again; and when the hill stood still, he 
was never a whit abashed, but said, 'If the 
hill will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet 
will go to the hill." So these men, when 
they have promised great matters and failed 
most shamefully, yet (if they have the per- 
fection of boldness) they will but slight it 
over, and make a turn, and no more ado. 
Certainly to men of great judgment, bold 
persons are a sport to behold; nay and to 
the vulgar also, boldness hath somewhat of 
the ridiculous. For if absurdity be the sub- 
ject of laughter, doubt you not but great 
boldness is seldom without some absurdity. 
Especially it is a sport to see when a bold 
fellow is out of countenance; for that puts 
27 



Bacon 

his face into a most shrunken and wooden 
posture ; as needs it must ; for in bashfulness 
the spirits do a little go and come; but with 
bold men, upon like occasion, thej stand at 
a stay; like a stale at chess, where it is no 
mate, but yet the game cannot stir. But 
this last were fitter for a satire than for a 
serious observation. This is well to be 
weighed; that boldness is ever blind; for it 
seeth not dangers and inconveniences. There- 
fore it is ill in counsel, good in execution; 
so that the right use of bold persons is, that 
they never command in chief, but be sec- 
onds, and under the direction of others. For 
in counsel it is good to see dangers; and in 
execution not to see them, except they be 
very great. 



OF GOODNESS AND GOODNESS OF NATURE. 

I take Goodness in this sense, the affecting 
of the weal of men, which is that the Grecians 
call Philanthropia ; and the word humanity 
(as it is used) is a little too light to express 
it. Goodness I call the habit, and Goodness 
of Nature the inclination. This of all vir- 
tues and dignities of the mind is the great- 
est; being the character of the Deity: and 
without it man is a busy, mischievous, 
wretched thing; no better than a kind of 
vermin. Goodness answers to the theolog- 
28 



Of Goodness of Nature 

ical virtue Charity, and admits no excess, but 
error. The desire of power in excess caused 
the angels to fall ; the desire of knowledge 
in excess caused man to fall; but in charity 
there is no excess ; neither can angel or man 
come in danger by it. The inclination to 
goodness is imprinted deeply in the nature 
of man; insomuch that if it issue not to- 
wards men, it will take unto other living 
creatures ; as it is seen in the Turks, a cruel 
people, who nevertheless are kind to beasts, 
and give alms to dogs and birds; insomuch 
as Busbechius reporteth, a Christian boy in 
Constantinople had like to have been stoned 
for gagging in a waggishness a long-billed 
fowl. Errors indeed in this virtue of good- 
ness or charity may be committed. The 
Italians have an ungracious proverb, "Tanto 
buon che val niente;" ''So good, that he 
is good for nothing." And one of the doc- 
tors of Italy, Nicholas Machiavel, had the 
confidence to put in writing almost in plain 
terms, "That the Christian faith had given 
up good men in prey to those that are tyr- 
rannical and unjust." Which he spake, be- 
cause indeed there was never law, or sect, or 
opinion, did so much magnify goodness, as the 
Christian religion doth. Therefore to avoid 
the scandal and the danger both, it is good 
to take knowledge of the errors of an habit 
so excellent. Seek the good of other men, 
but be not in bondage to their faces or fan- 
29 



Bacon 

cies ; for that is but facility or softness ; which 
taketh an honest mind prisoner. Neither 
give thou v^Esop's cock a gem, who would 
be better pleased and happier if he had a 
barley-corn. The example of God teacheth 
the lesson truly; "He sendeth his rain, and 
maketh his sun to shine, upon the just and 
the unjust;" but he doth not rain wealth, 
nor shine honour and virtues, upon men 
equally. Common benefits are to be commu- 
nicate with all but peculiar benefits with 
choice. And beware how in making the por- 
traiture thou breakest the pattern. For divin- 
ity maketh the love of ourselves the pattern; 
the love of our neighbours but the portrait- 
ure: "Sell all thou hast, and give it to the 
poor, and follow me:" but sell not all thou 
hast, except thou come and follow me ; that 
is, except thou have a vocation wherein thou 
mayest do as much good with little means 
as with great; for otherwise in feeding the 
streams thou driest the fountain. Neither is 
there only a habit of goodness, directed by 
right reason ; but there is in some men, even 
in nature, a disposition towards it ; as on the 
other side there is a natural malignity. For 
there be that in their nature do not affect the 
good of others. The lighter sort of malignity 
turneth but to a crossness, or frowardness, 
or aptness to oppose, or difficilness, or the 
like; but the deeper sort to envy and mere 
mischief. Such men in other men's calami- 
30 



Of Goodness of Nature 

ties are, as it were, in season, and are ever 
on the loading part : not so good as the dogs 
that licked Lazarus' sores, but like flies that 
are still buzzing upon anything that is raw ; 
misanthropic that make it their practice to 
bring men to the bough, and jet have never 
a tree for the purpose in their gardens, as 
Timon had. Such dispositions are the very 
err ours of human nature ; and yet they are the 
fittest timber to make great politiques of; like 
to knee timber, that is good for ships, that 
are ordained to be tossed ; but not for build- 
ing houses, that shall stand firm. The parts 
and signs of goodness are many. If a man 
be gracious and courteous to strangers, it 
shews he is a citizen of the world, and that 
his heart is no island cut off from other 
lands, but a continent that joins to them. 
If he be compassionate to wards the afflictions 
of others, it shews that his heart is like the 
noble tree that is wounded itself when it 
gives the balm. If he easily pardons and 
remits offences, it shews that his mind is 
planted above injuries ; so that he cannot be 
shot. If he be thankful for smallbenefits, it 
shews that he weighs men's minds, and not 
their trash. But, above all, if he have St. 
Paul's perfection, that he would wish to be 
an anathema from Christ for the salvation of 
his brethren, it shews much of a divine na- 
ture, and a kind of conformity with Christ 
himself. 



Bacon 



OF NOBILITY. 



We will speak of Nobility first as a portion 
of an estate; then as a condition of particular 
persons. A monarchy where there is no 
nobility at all, is ever a pure and absolute 
tyranny ; as that of the Turks. For nobility 
attempers sovereignty, and draws the eyes 
of the people somewhat aside from the line 
royal. But for democracies, they need it not ; 
and they are commonly more quiet and less 
subject to sedition, than where there are 
stirps of nobles. For men's eyes are upon the 
business, and not upon the persons: or if 
upon the persons, it is for the business sake, 
as fittest, and not for flags and pedigree. 
We see the Switzers last well, notwithstand- 
ing their diversity of religion and of cantons. 
For utility is their bond, and not respects. 
The united provinces of the Low Countries 
in their government excel ; for where there is 
an equality, the consultations are more in- 
different, and the payments and tributes 
more cheerful. A great and potent nobility 
addeth majesty to a monarch, but dimin- 
isheth power, and putteth life and spirit into 
the people, but presseth their fortune. It is 
well when nobles are not too great for sov- 
ereignty nor for justice ; and yet maintained 
in that height, as the insolency of inferiors 
32 



Of Nobility 

may be broken upon them before it come on 
too fast upon the majesty of kings. A nu- 
merous nobility causeth poverty and incon- 
venience in a state; for it is a surcharge of 
expense; and besides, it being of necessity 
that many of the nobility fall in time to be 
weak in fortune, it maketh a kind of dispro- 
portion between honour and means. 

As for nobility in particular persons ; it is a 
reverend thing to see an ancient castle or 
building not in decay ; or to see a fair timber 
tree sound and perfect; how much more to 
behold an ancient noble family, which hath 
stood against the waves and weathers of 
time? For new nobility is but the act 
of power, but ancient nobility is the act of 
time. Those that are first raised to nobility 
are commonly more virtuous, but less inno- 
cent, than their descendants; for there is 
rarely any rising but by a commixture of 
good and evil arts. But it is reason the 
memory of their virtues remain to their 
posterity, and their faults die with them- 
selves. Nobility of birth commonly abateth 
industry; and he that is not industrious, 
envieth him that is. Besides, noble persons 
cannot go much higher: and he that stand- 
eth at a stay when others rise, can hardly 
avoid motions of envy. On the other side, 
nobility extinguisheth the passive envy from 
others towards them; because they are in 
possession of honour. Certainly, kings that 
3 33 



Bacon 

have able men of their nobility shall find 
ease in employing them, and a better slide 
into their business; for people naturally 
bend to them, as born in some sort to com- 
mand. 



OF ATHEISM. 

I had rather believe all the fables in the 
Legend, and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, 
than that this universal frame is without a 
mind. And therefore God never wrought 
miracle to convince atheism, because his ordi- 
nary works convince it. It is true, that a 
little philosophy inclineth man's mind to 
atheism; but depth in philosophy bringeth 
men's minds about to religion. For while the 
mind of man looketh upon second causes 
scattered, it may sometimes rest in them, 
and go no further; but when it beholdeth the 
chain of them, confederate and linked to- 
gether, it must needs fly to Providence and 
Deity. Nay, even that school which is most 
accused of atheism doth most demonstrate 
religion; that is, the school of Leucippus and 
Democritus and Epicurus: for it is a thou- 
sand times more credible, that four mutable 
elements, and one immutable fifth essence, 
duly and eternally placed, need no God, than 
that an army of infinite small portions or 
seeds unplaced, should have produced this 
34 



Of Atheism 

order and beauty without a divine marshal. 
The Scripture saith, "The fool hath said in 
his heart, there is no God;" it is not said, 
"The fool hath thought in his heart;" so as 
he rather saith it by rote to himself, as that 
he would have, than that he can thoroughly 
believe it, or be persuaded of it. For none 
deny there is a God, but those for whom it 
maketh that there were no God. It appear- 
eth in nothing more, that atheism is rather 
in the lip than in the heart of man, than by 
this; that atheists will ever be talking of 
that their opinion, as if they fainted in it 
within themselves, and would be glad to be 
strengthened by the consent of others. Nay 
more, you shall have atheists strive to get 
disciples, as it fareth with other sects. And, 
which is most of all, you shall have of them 
that will suffer for atheism, and not recant ; 
whereas if they did truly think that there 
were no such thing as God, why should they 
trouble themselves? Epicurus is charged 
that he did but dissemble for his credit's 
sake, when he affirmed there were blessed 
natures, but such as enjoyed themselves with- 
out having respect to the government of the 
world. Wherein they say he did tempor- 
ize ; though in secret he thought there was no 
God. But certainly he is traduced, for his 
words are noble and divine: "Non Deos 
vulgi negare profanum; sed vulgi opiniones 
Diis applicare profanum:" [There is no pro- 
35 



Bacon 

fanity in refusing to believe in the Gods of 
the vulgar: the profanity is in believing of 
the Gods what the vulgar believe of them.] 
Plato could have said no more. And, al- 
though he had the confidence to deny the 
administration, he had not the power to 
deny the nature. The Indians of the west 
have names for their particular gods, though 
they have no name for God: as if the hea- 
thens should have had the names Jupiter, 
Apollo, Mars, &c, but not the word Deus, 
which shews that even those barbarous 
people have the notion, though they have 
not the latitude and extent of it. So that 
against atheists the very savages take part 
with the very subtlest philosophers. The 
contemplative atheist is rare; a Diagoras, a 
Bion, a Lucian perhaps, and some others; 
and yet they seem to be more than they are ; 
for that all that impugn a received religion 
or superstition are by the adverse part 
branded with the name of atheists. But the 
great atheists indeed are hypocrites; which 
are ever handling holy things, but without 
feeling; so as they must needs be cauterized 
in the end. The causes of atheism are ; divi- 
sions in religion, if they be many; for any 
one main division addeth zeal to both sides ; 
but many divisions introduce atheism. An- 
other is, scandal of priests ; when it is come 
to that which St. Bernard saith, "Non est 
jam dicere, ut populus sic sacerdos ; quia nee 
36 



Of Atheism 

sic populus ut sacerdos:" [One cannot now 
say, the priest is as the people, for the truth 
is that the people are not so bad as the 
priest.] A third is, custom of profane scoff- 
ing in holy matters ; which doth by little and 
little deface the reverence of religion. And 
lastly, learned times, specially with peace 
and prosperity; for troubles and adversities 
do more bow men's minds to religion. They 
that deny a God destroy man's nobility ; for 
certainly man is of kin to the beast by his 
body ; and, if he be not of kin to God by his 
spirit, he is a base and ignoble creature. It 
destroys likewise magnanimity, and the rais- 
ing of human nature; for take an example of 
a dog, and mark what a generosity and cour- 
age he will put on when he finds himself 
maintained by a man ; who to him is instead 
of a God, or "melior natura;" which courage 
is manifestly such as that creature, without 
that confidence of a better nature than his 
own, could never attain. So man, when he 
resteth and assureth himself upon divine pro- 
tection and favour, gathereth a force and 
faith which human nature in itself could not 
obtain ; therefore,, as atheism is in all respects 
hateful, so in this, that it depriveth human 
nature of the means to exalt itself above 
human frailty. As it is in particular persons, 
so it is in nations. Never was there such a 
state for magnanimity as Rome. Of this 
state hear what Cicero saith: "Quam volu- 
37 



Bacon 

mus licet, Patres conscripti, nos amemus, 
tamen nee numero Hispanos, nee robore 
Gallos, nee calliditate Poenos, nee artibus 
Graecos, nee denique hoc ipso hujus gentis et 
terrae domestico nativoque sensu Italos ipsos 
et Latinos; sed pietate, ac religione, atque 
hac una sapientia, quod Deorum immor- 
talium numine omnia regi gubernarique per- 
speximus omnes gentes nationesque super- 
avimus:" [Pride ourselves as we may upon 
our country, yet are we not in number 
superior to the Spaniards, nor in strength to 
the Gauls, nor in cunning to the Cartha- 
ginians, nor to the Greeks in arts, nor to the 
Italians and Latins themselves in the homely 
and native sense which belongs to this na- 
tion and land ; it is in piety only and religion, 
and the wisdom of regarding the providence 
of the Immortal Gods as that which rules 
and governs all things, that we have sur- 
passed all nations and peoples.] 



OF SUPERSTITION. 

It were better to have no opinion of God 
at all, than such an opinion as is unworthy 
of him ; for the one is unbelief, the other is 
contumely; and certainly superstition is the 
reproach of the Deity. Plutarch saith well to 
that purpose: "Surely," saith he, "I had 
38 



Of Superstition 

rather a great deal men should say there was 
no such man at all as Plutarch, than that 
they should say there was one Plutarch that 
would eat his children as soon as they were 
born," as the poets speak of Saturn. And, as 
the contumely is greater towards God, so the 
danger is greater towards men. Atheism 
leaves a man to sense, to philosophy, to 
natural piety, to laws, to reputation; all 
which may be guides to an outward moral 
virtue, though religion were not ; but super- 
stition dismounts all these, and erecteth an 
absolute monarchy in the minds of men. 
Therefore atheism did never perturb states; 
for it makes men wary of themselves, as 
looking no further : and we see the times in- 
clined to atheism (as the time of Augustus 
Caesar) were civil times. But superstition 
hath been the confusion of many states, and 
bringeth in a new "primum mobile," that 
ravisheth all the spheres of government. 
The master of superstition is the people; and 
in all superstition wise men follow fools ; and 
arguments are fitted to practice, in a re- 
versed order. It was gravely said, by some 
of the prelates in the council of Trent, where 
the doctrine of the schoolmen bare great 
sway, "that the schoolmen were like astrono- 
mers, which did feign eccentrics and epicycles, 
and such engines of orbs, to save the phenom- 
ena; though they knew there were no such 
things;" and in like manner, that the school- 
39 



Bacon 

men had framed a number of subtle and in- 
tricate axioms and theorems, to save the 
practice of the church. The causes of super- 
stition are, pleasing and sensual rites and 
ceremonies ; excess of outward and pharisaical 
holiness ; over-great reverence of traditions, 
which cannot but load the church ; the strat- 
agems of prelates for their own ambition 
and lucre; the favouring too much of good 
intentions, which openeth the gate to con- 
ceits and novelties; the taking an aim at 
divine matters by human, which cannot but 
breed mixture of imaginations ; and, lastly, 
barbarous times, especially joined with ca- 
lamities and disasters. Superstition, with- 
out a veil, is a deformed thing; for as it 
addeth deformity to an ape to be so like a 
man, so the similitude of superstition to re- 
ligion makes it the more deformed. And, as 
wholesome meat corrupteth to little worms, 
so good forms and orders corrupt into a 
number of petty observances. There is a 
superstition in avoiding superstition, when 
men think to do best if they go furthest from 
the superstition formerly received; therefore 
care would be had that (as it fareth in ill 
purgings) the good be not taken away with 
the bad ; which commonly is done when the 
people is the reformer. 



40 



Of Travel 



OF TRAVEL. 



Travel, in the younger sort, is a part of 
education; in the elder, a part of experience. 
He that travelleth into a country before he 
hath some entrance into the language, goeth 
to school, and not to travel. That young 
men travel under some tutor, or grave ser- 
vant, I allow well ; so that he be such a one 
that hath the language, and hath been in the 
country before; whereby he may be able to 
tell them what things are worthy to be seen 
in the country where they go ; what acquaint- 
ances they are to seek; what exercises or 
discipline the place yieldeth. For else young 
men shall go hooded, and look abroad little. 
It is a strange thing, that in sea voyages, 
where there is nothing to be seen but sky 
and sea, men should make diaries; but in 
land-travel, wherein so much is to be ob- 
served, for the most part they omit it ; as if 
chance were fitter to be registered than ob- 
servation: let diaries, therefore, be brought 
in use. The things to be seen and observed 
are, the courts of princes, specially when 
they give audience to ambassadors; the 
courts of justice, while they sit and hear 
causes; and so of consistories ecclesiastic; 
the churches and monasteries, with the mon- 
uments which are therein extant; the walls 
41 



Bacon 

and fortifications of cities and towns, and so 
the havens and harbours; antiquities and 
ruins; libraries; colleges, disputations, and 
lectures, where any are ; shipping and navies ; 
houses and gardens of state and pleasure, 
near great cities ; armories ; arsenals ; maga- 
zines ; exchanges ; burses ; warehouses ; exer- 
cises of horsemanship, fencing, training of 
soldiers, and the like : comedies, such where- 
unto the better sort of persons do resort ; 
treasuries of jewels and robes ; cabinets and 
rarities ; and, to conclude, whatsoever is mem- 
orable in the places where they go. After 
all which the tutors or servants ought to 
make diligent inquiry. As for triumphs, 
masks, feasts, weddings, funerals, capital 
executions, and such shows, men need not to 
be put in mind of them; yet are they not to 
be neglected. If you will have a young man 
to put his travel into a little room, and in 
short time to gather much, this you must 
do. First, as was said, he must have some 
entrance into the language before he goeth. 
Then he must have such a servant or tutor 
as knoweth the country, as was likewise 
said. Let him carry with him also some card 
or book describing the country where he 
travelleth; which will be a good key to his 
inquiry. Let him keep also a diary. Let him 
not stay long in one city or town ; more or 
less as the place deserveth, but not long; 
nay, when he stayeth in one city or town, 
42 



Of Travel 

let him change his lodging from one end 
and part of the town to another ; which is a 
great adamant of acquaintance; let him 
sequester himself from the company of his 
countrymen, and diet in such places where 
there is good company of the nation where 
he travelleth. Let him, upon his removes 
from one place to another, procure recom- 
mendation to some person of quality residing 
in the place whither he removeth; that he 
may use his favour in those things he desir- 
eth to see or know. Thus he may abridge his 
travel with much profit. As for the ac- 
quaintance which is to be sought in travel; 
that which is the most of all profitable, is 
acquaintance with the secretaries and em- 
ployed men of ambassadors : for so in trav- 
elling in one country he shall suck the ex- 
perience of many. Let him also see and visit 
eminent persons in all kinds, which are of 
great name abroad ; that he may be able to 
tell how the life agreeth with the fame. For 
quarrels, they are with care and discretion 
to be avoided. They are commonly for mis- 
tresses, healths, place, and words. And let a 
man beware how he keepeth company with 
choleric and quarrelsome persons; for they 
will engage him into their own quarrels. 
When a traveller returneth home, let him not 
leave the dountry where he hath travelled 
altogether behind him; but maintain a cor- 
respondence by letters with those of his ac- 
43 



Bacon 

quaintance which are most worth. And let 
his travel appear rather in his discourse than 
in his apparel or gesture; and in his dis- 
course let him be rather advised in his an- 
swers, than forward to tell stories: and let 
it appear that he doth not change his coun- 
try manners for those of foreign parts ; but 
only prick in some flowers of that he hath 
learned abroad into the customs of his own 
country. 



OF EMPIRE. 

It is a miserable state of mind to have few- 
things to desire, and many things to fear; 
and yet that commonly is the case of kings ; 
who being at the highest, want matter of 
desire, which makes their minds more lan- 
guishing ; and have many representations of 
perils and shadows, which makes their minds 
the less clear. And this is one reason also of 
that effect which the Scripture speaketh of, 
"That the king's heart is inscrutable." For 
multitude of jealousies, and lack of some 
predominant desire that should marshal and 
put in order all the rest, maketh any man's 
heart hard to find or sound. Hence it conies 
likewise, that princes many times make 
themselves desires, and set their hearts upon 
toys ; sometimes upon a building ; sometimes 
upon erecting of an order ; sometimes upon 
44 



Of Empire 

the advancing of a person ; sometimes upon 
obtaining excellence in some art or feat of 
the hand ; as Nero for playing on the harp, 
Domitian for certainty of the hand with the 
arrow, Commodus for playing at fence, 
Caracalla for driving chariots, and the like. 
This seemeth incredible unto those that 
know not the principle, that the mind of 
man is more cheered and refreshed by profit- 
ing in small things than by standing at a 
stay in great. We see also that kings that 
have been fortunate conquerors in their first 
years, it being not possible for them to go 
forward infinitely, but that they must have 
some check or arrest in their fortunes, turn 
in their latter j^ears to be superstitious and 
melancholy; as did Alexander the Great; 
Dioclesian; and in our memory, Charles the 
Fifth ; and others : for he that is used to go 
forward, and findeth a stop, falleth out of 
his own favour, and is not the thing he was. 
To speak now of the true temper of empire; 
it is a thing rare and hard to keep ; for both 
temper and distemper consists of contraries. 
But it is one thing to mingle contraries, an- 
other to interchange them. The answer of 
Apollonius to Vespasian is full of excellent in- 
struction. Vespasian asked him, "what was 
Nero's overthrow?" he answered, "Nero could 
touch and tune the harp well, but in govern- 
ment sometimes he used to wind the pins 
too high, sometimes to let them down too 
45 



Bacon 

low." And certain it is, that nothing destroy- 
eth authority so much as the unequal and 
untimely interchange of power pressed too 
far, and relaxed too much. 

This is true, that the wisdom of all these 
latter times in princes' affairs, is rather fine 
deliveries and shiftings of dangers and mis- 
chiefs when they are near, than solid and 
grounded courses to keep them aloof. But 
this is but to try masteries with fortune. 
And let men beware how they neglect and 
suffer matter of trouble to be prepared ; for 
no man can forbid the spark, nor tell whence 
it may come. The difficulties in princes' 
business are many and great ; but the great- 
est difficulty is often in their own mind. For 
it is common with princes (saith Tacitus) to 
will contradictories, "Sunt plerumque regum 
voluntates vehementes, et inter se con- 
trariae:" [Their desires are commonly vehe- 
ment and incompatible one with another.] 
For it is the solecism of power, to think to 
command the end, and yet not to endure the 
mean. 

Kings have to deal with their neighbours, 
their wives, their children, their prelates or 
clergy, their nobles, their second-nobles or 
gentlemen, their merchants, their commons, 
and their men of war; and from all these 
arise dangers, if care and circumspection be 
not used. 

First for their neighbours; there can 
46 



Of Empire 

no general rule be given (the occasions are 
so variable) save one which ever holdeth; 
which is, that princes do keep due sentinel, 
that none of their neighbours do overgrow 
so (by increase of territory, by embracing of 
trade, by approaches, or the like), as they 
become niore able to annoy them than they 
were. And this is generally the work of 
standing counsels to foresee and to hinder 
it. During that triumvirate of kings, King 
Henry the Eighth of England, Francis the 
First King of France, and Charles the Fifth 
Emperor, there was such a watch kept, that 
none of the three could win a palm of ground, 
but the other two would straightways bal- 
ance it, either by confederation, or, if need 
were, by a war ; and would not in any wise 
take up peace at interest. And the like was 
done by that league (which Guicciardine 
saith was the security of Italy) made be- 
tween Ferdinando King of Naples, Loren- 
zius Medices, and Ludovicus Sforza, poten- 
tates, the one of Florence, the other of Milan. 
Neither is the opinion of some of the school- 
men to be received, that a war cannot justly 
be made but upon a precedent injury or 
provocation. For there is no question but a 
just fear of an imminent danger, though there 
be no blow given, is a lawful cause of a war. 
For their wives ; there are cruel examples of 
them. Livia is infamed for the poisoning 
of her husband; Roxalana, Solyman's wife, 
47 



Bacon 

was the destruction of that renowned prince 
Sultan Mustapha, and otherwise troubled 
his house and succession ; Edward the Second 
of England his queen had the principal hand 
in the deposing and murther of her husband. 
This kind of danger is then to be feared 
chiefly, when the wives have plots for the 
raising of their own children; or else that 
they be advoutresses. 

For their children ; the tragedies likewise of 
dangers from them have been many. And 
generally, the entering of fathers into suspi- 
cion of their children hath been ever unfor- 
tunate. The destruction of Mustapha (that 
we named before) was so fatal to Solyman's 
line, as the succession of the Turks from 
Solyman until this day is suspected to be 
untrue, and of strange blood ; for that Sely- 
mus the Second was thought ta be supposi- 
tious. The destruction of Crispus, a young 
prince of rare towardness, by Constantinus 
the Great, his father, was in like manner 
fatal to his house ; for both Constantinus and 
Constance, his sons, died violent deaths ; and 
Constantius, his other son, did little better; 
who died indeed of sickness, but after that 
Julianus had taken arms against him. The 
destruction of Demetrius, son to Philip the 
Second of Macedon, turned upon the father, 
who died of repentance. And many like ex- 
amples there are; but few or none where the 
fathers had good by such distrust ; except it 
48 



Of Empire 

were where the sons were up in open arms 
against them ; as was Selymus the First 
against Bajazet; and the three sons of Henry 
the Second, King of England. 

For their prelates; when they are proud 
and great, there is also danger from them; 
as it was in the times of Anselmus and 
Thomas Becket, Archbishops of Canterbury; 
who with their crosiers did almost try it 
with the king's sword; and yet they had to 
deal with stout and haughty kings ; William 
Rufus, Henry the First, and Henry the Sec- 
ond. The danger is not from that state, but 
where it hath a dependance of foreign author- 
ity ; or where the churchmen come in and are 
elected, not by the collation of the king, or 
particular patrons, but by the people. 

For their nobles; to keep them at a dis- 
tance, it is not amiss; but to depress them, 
may make a king more absolute, but less safe; 
and less able to perform any thing that he 
desires. I have noted it in my History of 
King Henry the Seventh of England, who 
depressed his nobility ; whereupon it came to 
pass that his times were full of difficulties 
and troubles; for the nobility, though they 
continued loyal unto him, yet did they not 
co-operate with him in his business. So that 
in effect he was fain to do all things himself. 

For their second-nobles ; there is not much 
danger from them, being a body dispersed. 
They may sometimes discourse high, but that 
4 49 



Bacon 

doth little hurt ; besides, they are a counter- 
poise to the higher nobility, that they grow- 
not too potent; and, lastly, being the most 
immediate in authority with the common 
people, they do best temper popular commo- 
tions. 

For their merchants; they are "vena 
porta;" and if they flourish not, a kingdom 
may have good limbs, but will have empty 
veins, and nourish little. Taxes and imposts 
upon them do seldom good to the king's 
revenue ; for that which he wins in the hun- 
dred he leeseth in the shire; the particular 
rates being increased, but the total bulk of 
trading rather decreased. 

For their commons; there is little danger 
from them, except it be where they have 
great and potent heads ; or where you med- 
dle with the point of religion, or their cus- 
toms, or means of life. 

For their men of war; it is a dangerous 
state where they live and remain in a body, 
and are used to donatives; whereof we see ex- 
amples in the janizaries, and pretorian bands 
of Rome ; but trainings of men, and arming 
them in several places, and under several 
commanders, and without donatives, are 
things of defence, and no danger. 

Princes are like to heavenly bodies, which 

cause good or evil times; and which have 

much veneration, but no rest. All precepts 

concerning kings are in effect comprehended 

t 50 



Of Counsel 

in those two remembrances; "memento quod 
es homo;" and "memento quod es Deus, or 
vice Dei;" [Remember that you are a man; 
and remember that you are a God, or God's 
lieutenant :] the one bridleth their power, 
and the other their will. 



OF COUNSEL. 

The greatest trust between man and man 
is the trust of giving counsel. For in other 
confidences men commit the parts of life; 
their lands, their goods, their child, their 
credit, some particular affair; but to such as 
they make their counsellors, they commit the 
whole : by how much the more they are 
obliged to all faith and integrity. The 
wisest princes need not think it any dimi- 
nution to their greatness, or derogation to 
their sufficiency, to rely upon counsel. God 
himself is not without, but hath made it one 
of the great names of his blessed Son; "The 
Counsellor." Salomon hath pronounced 
that "in counsel is stability." Things will 
have their first or second agitation : if they 
be not tossed upon the arguments of counsel, 
they will be tossed upon the waves of for- 
tune ; and be full of inconstancy, doing and 
undoing, like the reeling of a drunken man. 
Salomon's son found the force of counsel, as 



Bacon 

his father saw the necessity of it. For the 
beloved kingdom of God was first rent and 
broken by ill counsel; upon which counsel 
there are set for our instruction the two 
marks whereby bad counsel is for ever best 
discerned ; that it was young counsel, for the 
persons ; and violent counsel, for the matter. 
The ancient times do set forth in figure 
both the incorporation and inseparable con- 
junction of counsel with kings, and the wise 
and polite use of counsel by kings: the one, 
in that they say Jupiter did marry Metis, 
which signifieth counsel; whereby they in- 
tend that Sovereignty is married to Counsel ; 
the other in that which followeth, which 
was thus ; They say, after Jupiter was mar- 
ried to Metis, she conceived by him and was 
with child, but Jupiter suffered her not to 
stay till she brought forth, but ^at her up; 
whereby he became himself with child, and 
was delivered of Pallas armed, out of his 
head. Which monstrous fable containeth a 
secret of empire; how kings are to make use 
of their council of state. That first, they 
ought to refer matters unto them, which is 
the first begetting or impregnation; but 
when they are elaborate, moulded, and 
shaped in the womb of their council, and 
grow ripe and ready to be brought forth, 
that then they suffer not their council to go 
through with the resolution and direction, 
as if it depended on them; but take the 
52 



Of Counsel 

matter back into their own hands, and make 
it appear to the world that the decrees and 
final directions (which, because they come 
forth with prudence and power, are resem- 
bled to Pallas armed) proceeded from them- 
selves; and not only from their authority, 
but (the more to add reputation to them- 
selves) from their head and device. 

Let us now speak of the inconveniences of 
counsel, and of the remedies. The inconven- 
iences that have been noted in calling and 
using counsel, are three. First, the revealing 
of affairs, whereby they become less secret. 
Secondly, the weakening of the authority of 
princes, as if they were less of themselves ; 
thirdly, the danger of being unfaithfully 
counselled, and more for the good of them 
that counsel than of him that is counselled. 
For which inconveniences, the doctrine of 
Italy, and practice of France, in some kings' 
times, hath introduced cabinet councils; a 
remedy worse than the disease. 

As to secrecy; princes are not bound to 
communicate all matters with all counsel- 
lors ; but may extract and select. Neither is 
it necessary that he that consulteth what he 
should do, should declare what he will do. 
But let princes beware that the unsecreting of 
their affairs comes not from themselves. And 
as for cabinet councils, it may be their 
motto, "plenus rimarum sum:" [they are 
full of leaks :] one futile person that maketh 
53 



Bacon 

it his glory to tell, will do more hurt than 
many that know it their duty to conceal. It 
is true there be some affairs which require 
extreme secrecy, which will hardly go beyond 
one or two persons besides the king : neither 
are those counsels unprosperous ; for, besides 
the secrecy, they commonly go on constantly 
in one spirit of direction, without distrac- 
tion^ But then it must be a prudent king, 
such as is able to grind with a hand-mill; 
and those inward counsellors had need also 
be wise men, and especially true and trusty 
to the king's ends; as it was with King 
Henry the Seventh of England, who in his 
greatest business imparted himself to none, 
except it were to Morton and Fox. 

For weakening of authority; the fable 
showeth the remedy. Nay, the majesty of 
kings is rather exalted than diminished when 
they are in the chair of council ; neither was 
there ever prince bereaved of his dependances 
by his council, except where there hath been 
either an over-greatness in one counsellor, or 
an over-strict combination in divers; which 
are things soon found and holpen. 

For the last inconvenience, that men will 
counsel with an eye to themselves ; certainly, 
"non invenient fidem super terrain" [he will 
not find faith on the earth,] is meant of the 
nature of times, and not of all particular 
persons. There be that are in nature faith- 
ful, and sincere, and plain, and direct; not 
54 



Of Counsel 

crafty and involved; let princes, above all, 
draw to themselves such natures. Besides, 
counsellors are not commonly so united, but 
that one counsellor keepeth sentinel over an- 
other ; so that if any do counsel out of fac- 
tion or private ends, it commonly comes to 
the king's ear. But the best remedy is, if 
princes know their counsellors, as well as 
their counsellors know them: 

Principis est virtus maxima nosse suos. 

And on the other side, counsellors should not 
be too speculative into their sovereign's per- 
son. The true composition of a counsellor is 
rather to be skilful in their master's business 
than in his nature; for then he is like to 
advise him, and not feed his humour. It is 
of singular use to princes if they take the 
opinions of their counsel both separately and 
together. For private opinion is more free; 
but opinion before others is more reverent. 
In private, men are more bold in their own 
humours; and in consort, men are more 
obnoxious to others' humours ; therefore it is 
good to take both ; and of the inferior sort 
rather in private, to preserve freedom ; of the 
greater rather in consort, to preserve re- 
spect. It is in vain for princes to take coun- 
sel concerning matters, if they take no coun- 
sel likewise concerning persons ; for all mat- 
ters are as dead images; and the life of the 
execution of affairs resteth in the good choice 
55 



Bacon 

of persons: neither is it enough to consult 
concerning persons "secundum genera," as 
in an idea, or mathematical description, what 
the kind and character of the person should 
be; for the greatest errors are committed, 
and the most judgment is shown, in the 
choice of individuals. It was truly said, 
"optimi consiliarii mortui:" [the best coun- 
sellors are the dead :] books will speak plain 
when counsellors blanch. Therefore it is 
good to be conversant in them, specially the 
books of such as themselves have been actors 
upon the stage. 

The counsels at this day in most places are 
but familiar meetings, where matters are 
rather talked on than debated. And they run 
too swift to the order or act of counsel. It 
were better that in causes of weight, the 
matter were propounded one day and not 
spoken to till the next day; "in nocte con- 
silium:" [night is the season for counsel.] 
So was it done in the Commission of Union 
between England and Scotland ; which was 
a grave and orderly assembly. I commend 
set days for petitions; for both it gives the 
suitors more certainty for their attendance, 
and it frees the meetings for matters of 
estate, that they may "hoc agere." In 
choice of committees for ripening business for 
the counsel, it is better to choose indifferent 
persons, than to make an indifferency by 
putting in those that are strong on both 
56 



Of Counsel 

sides. I commend also standing commis- 
sions; as for trade, for treasure, for war, 
for suits, for some provinces ; for where there 
be divers particular counsels and but one 
counsel of estate (as it is in Spain), they are, 
in effect, no more than standing commissions : 
save that they have greater authority. Let 
such as are to inform counsels out of their 
particular professions, (as lawyers, seamen, 
mintmen, and the like, ) be first heard before 
committees; and then, as occasion serves, 
before the counsel ; and let them not come in 
multitudes, or in a tribunitious manner; for 
that is to clamour counsels, not to inform 
them. A long table and a square table, or 
seats about the walls, seem things of form, 
but are things of substance; for at a long 
table a few at the upper end, in effect, sway 
all the business ; but in the other form there 
is more use of the counsellors' opinions that 
sit lower. A king, when he presides in coun- 
sel, let him beware how he opens his own 
inclination too much in that which he pro- 
poundeth; for else counsellors will but take 
the wind of him, and instead of giving free 
counsel, will sing him a song of "placebo." 



57 



Bacon 



OF DELAYS. 

Fortune is like the market; where many- 
times, if you can stay a little, the prices will 
fall. And again, it is sometimes like Sibylla's 
offer; which at first offereth the commodity 
at full, then consumeth part and part, and 
still holdeth up the price. For occasion (as it 
is in the common verse) "turneth a bald nod- 
dle after she hath presented her locks in 
front, and no hold taken;" or, at least, turn- 
eth the handle of the bottle first to be re- 
ceived, and after the belly, which is hard to 
clasp. There is surely no greater wisdom 
than well to time the beginnings and onsets 
of things. Dangers are no more light, if they 
once seem light ; and more dangers have de- 
ceived men than forced them; nay, it were 
better to meet some dangers half way, 
though they come nothing near, than to keep 
too long a watch upon their approaches ; for 
if a man watch too long it is odds he will 
fall asleep. On the other side, to be deceived 
with too long shadows (as some have been 
when the moon was low and shone on their 
enemies' back), and so to shoot off before the 
time; or to teach dangers to come on, by 
' over early buckling towards them ; is another 
extreme. The ripeness or unripeness of the 
occasion (as we said) must ever be well 
58 



Of Cunning 

weighed ; and generally it is good to commit 
the beginnings of all great actions to Argos 
with his hundred eyes, and the ends to 
Briareus with his hundred hands; first to 
watch, and then to speed. For the helmet of 
Pluto, which maketh. the politic man go in- 
visible, is secrecy in the counsel and celerity 
in the execution. For when things are once 
come to the execution, there is no secrecy 
comparable to celerity ; like the motion of a 
bullet in the air, which flieth so swift as it 
outruns the eye. 



OF CUNNING. 

We take Cunning for a sinister or crooked 
wisdom: and certainly there is a great dif- 
ference between a cunning man and a wise 
man; not only in point of honesty, but in 
point of ability. There be that can pack the 
cards, and yet cannot play well ; so there are 
some that are good in canvasses and fac- 
tions, that are otherwise weak men. Again, 
it is one thing to understand persons, and 
another thing to understand matters ; for 
many are perfect in men's humours, that are 
not greatly capable of the real part of busi- 
ness; which is the constitution of one that 
hath studied men more than books. Such 
men are fitter for practice than for counsel; 
and they are good but in their own alley: 
59 



Bacon 

turn them to new men, and they have lost 
their aim ; so as the old rule to know a fool 
from a wise man, "Mitte ambos nudos ad 
ignotus, et videbis," [Send them both naked 
to those they know not,] doth scarce hold 
for them. And because these cunning men 
are like haberdashers of small wares, it is 
not amiss to set forth their shop. 

It is a point of cunning to wait upon him 
with 'whom you speak, with your eye ; as the 
Jesuits give it in precept : for there be many 
wise men that have secret hearts and trans- 
parent countenances. Yet this would be done 
with a demure abasing of your eye some- 
times, as the Jesuits also do use. 

Another is, that when you have anything 
to obtain of present despatch, you entertain 
and amuse the party with whom you deal 
with some other discourse; that he be not 
too much awake to make objections. I 
knew a counsellor and secretary, that never 
came to Queen Elizabeth of England with 
bills to sign, but he would always first put 
her into some discourse of estate, that she 
mought the less mind the bills. 

The like surprise may be made by moving 
things when the party is in haste, and can- 
not stay to consider advisedly of that is 
moved. 

If a man would cross a business that he 
doubts some other would handsomely and 
effectually move, let him pretend to wish it 
60 



Of Cunning 

well, and move it himself in such sort as 
may foil it. 

The breaking off in the midst of that one 
was about to say, as if he took himself up, 
breeds a greater appetite in him with whom 
you confer to know more. 

And because it works better when any- 
thing seemeth to be gotten from you by 
question, than if you offer it of yourself, you 
may lay a bait for a question, by showing 
another visage and countenance than you are 
wont; to the end to give occasion for the 
party to ask what the matter is of the 
change? As Nehemias did, "And I had not 
before that time been sad before the king." 

In things that are tender and unpleasing, 
it is good to break the ice by some whose 
"words are of less weight, and to reserve the 
more weighty voice to come in as by chance, 
so that he may be asked the question upon 
the other's speech ; as Narcissus did, in relat- 
ing to Claudius the marriage of Messalina 
and Silius. 

In things that a man would not be seen in 
himself, it is a point of cunning to borrow 
the name of the world; as to say, "The 
world says," or "There is a speech abroad." 

I knew one that, when he wrote a letter, 
he would put that which was most material 
in the postscript, as if it had been a bye- 
matter. 

I knew another that, when he came to 
61 



Bacon 

have speech, he would pass over that that 
he intended most; and go forth, and come 
back again, and speak of it as of a thing 
that he had almost forgot. 

Some procure themselves to be surprised at 
such times as it is like the party that they 
work upon will suddenly come upon them; 
and to be found with a letter in their hand, 
or doing somewhat which they are not ac- 
customed; to the end they may be apposed 
of those things which of themselves they are 
desirous to utter. 

It is a point of cunning to let fall those 
words in a man's own name, which he would 
have another man learn and use, and there- 
upon take advantage. I knew two that 
were competitors for the secretary's place in 
Queen Elizabeth's time, and yet kept good 
quarter between themselves ; and would con- 
fer one with another upon the business ; and 
the one of them said, That to be a secretary 
in the declination of a monarchy was a 
ticklish thing, and that he did not affect it : 
the other straight caught up those words, 
and discoursed with divers of his friends, 
that he had no reason to desire to be secre- 
tary in the declination of a monarchy. The 
first man took hold of it, and found means 
it was told the Queen; whose hearing of a 
declination of a monarchy, took it so ill, as 
she would never after hear of the other's suit. 

There is a cunning, which we in England 
62 



Of Cunning 

call "The turning of the cat in the pan;" 
which is, when that which a man says to 
another, he lays it as if another had said it 
to him. And to say truth, it is not easy 
when such a matter passed between two, to 
make it appear from which of them it first 
moved and began. 

It is a way that some men have, to glance 
and dart at others by justifying themselves 
by negatives; as to say, "This I do not;" as 
Tigellinus did toward Burrhus, "Se non 
diversas spes, sed incolumitatem imperatoris 
simpliciter spectare:" [That he had not sev- 
eral hopes to rest on, but looked simply to 
the safety of the Emperor.] 

Some have in readiness so many tales and 
stories, as there is nothing they "would in- 
sinuate, but they can -wrap it into a tale; 
which serveth both to keep themselves more 
in guard, and to make others carry it with, 
more pleasure. 

It is a good point of cunning, for a man to 
shape the answer he would have in his own 
words and propositions; for it makes the 
other party stick the less. 

It is strange how long some men will lie in 
wait to speak somewhat they desire to say ; 
and how far about they will fetch, and how 
many other matters they "will beat over, to 
come near it. It is a thing of great patience, 
but yet of much use. 

A sudden, bold, and unexpected question 
63 



Bacon 

doth many times surprise a man, and lay 
him open. Like to him that, having 
changed his name, and walking in Paul's, 
another suddenly came behind him and called 
him by his true name, whereat straightways 
he looked back. 

But these small wares and petty points of 
cunning are infinite ; and it were a good deed 
to make a list of them; for that nothing 
doth more hurt in a state than that cunning 
men pass for wise. 

But certainly some there are that know 
the resorts and falls of business, that cannot 
sink into the main of it ; like a house that 
hath convenient stairs and entries, but never 
a fair room. Therefore you shall see them 
find out pretty looses in the conclusion, but 
are no ways able to examine or debate 
matters: and yet commonly they take ad- 
vantage of their inability, and would be 
thought wits of direction. Some build rather 
upon the abusing of others, and (as we now 
say) "putting tricks upon them," than upon 
soundness of their own proceedings. But 
Salomon saith, "Prudens advertit ad gressus 
suos: stultus divertit ad dolos:" [The wise 
man taketh heed to his steps : the fool turn- 
eth aside to deceits.] 



64 



Of Wisdom for a Man's Self 



OF WISDOM FOR A MAN'S SELF. 

An ant is a wise creature for itself, but it 
is a shrewd thing in an orchard or garden. 
And certainly men that are great lovers of 
themselves waste the public. Divide with 
reason between self-love and society ; and be 
so true to thyself, as thou be not false to 
others ; especially to thy king and country. 
It is a poor centre of a man's actions, him- 
self. It is right earth. For that only stands 
fast upon his own centre ; whereas all things 
that have affinity with the heavens, move 
upon the centre of another, which they bene- 
fit. The referring of all to a man's self is 
more tolerable in a sovereign prince; be- 
cause themselves are not only themselves, 
but their good and evil is at the peril of the 
public fortune. But it is a desperate evil in a 
servant to a prince, or a citizen in a republic. 
For whatsoever affairs pass such a man's 
hands, he crooketh them to his own ends; 
which, must needs be often eccentric to the 
ends of his master or state. Therefore let 
princes, or states, choose such servants as 
have not this mark ; except they mean their 
service should be made but the accessary. 
That which maketh the effect more pernicious 
is that all proportion is lost. It were dis- 
proportion enough for the servant's good to 
5 65 



Bacon 

be preferred before the master's ; but yet it is 
a greater extreme, when a little good of the 
servant shall carry things against the great 
good of the master's. And yet that is the 
case of bad officers, treasurers, ambassadors, 
generals, and other false and corrupt ser- 
vants ; which set a bias upon their bowl, of 
their own petty ends and envies, to the over- 
throw of their master's great and important 
affairs. And, for the most part, the good 
such servants receive is after the model of 
their own fortune ; but the hurt they sell for 
that good is after the model of their master's 
fortune. And certainly it is the nature of 
extreme self-lovers, as they will set an house 
on fire, and it were but to roast their eggs ; 
and yet these men many times hold credit 
with their masters, because their study is but 
to please them and profit themselves; and 
for either respect they will abandon the good 
of their affairs. 

Wisdom for a man's self is, in many 
branches thereof, a depraved thing. It is the 
wisdom of rats, that will be sure to leave a 
house somewhat before it fall. It is the wis- 
dom of the fox, that thrusts out the badger, 
who digged and made room for him. It is the 
wisdom of crocodiles, that shed tears when 
they would devour. But that which is 
specially to be noted is, that those which 
(as Cicero says of Pompey) are "sui aman- 
tes, sine rivali," [lovers of themselves with- 
66 



Of Innovations 

out rival,], are many times unfortunate. 
And whereas they have all their times sacri- 
ficed to themselves, they become in the end 
themselves sacrifices to the inconstancy of 
fortune ; whose wings they thought by their 
self-wisdom to have pinioned. . 



OF INNOVATIONS. 

As the births of living creatures at first 
are ill-shapen, so are all Innovations, which 
are the births of time. Yet notwithstanding, 
as those that first bring honour into their 
family are commonly more worthy than 
most that succeed, so the first precedent 
(if it be good) is seldom attained by imita- 
tion. For 111, to man's nature as it stands 
perverted, hath a natural motion, strongest 
in continuance; but Good, as a forced mo- 
tion, strongest at first. Surely every medi- 
cine is an innovation; and he that will not 
apply new remedies must expect new evils; 
for time is the greatest innovator; and if 
time of course alter all things to the worse, 
and wisdom and counsel shall not alter 
them to the better, what shall be the end? 
It is true, that what is settled by custom, 
though it be not good, yet at least it is fit; 
and those things which have long gone to- 
gether, are as it were confederate within 
67 . 



Bacon 

themselves ; whereas new things piece not so 
well; but though they help by their utility, 
yet they trouble by their inconformity. Be- 
sides, they are like strangers; more admired 
and less favoured. All this is true, if time 
stood still; which contrariwise moveth so 
round, that a fro ward retention of custom is 
as turbulent a thing as an innovation; and 
they that reverence too much old times, are 
but a scorn to the new. It were good there- 
fore that men in their innovations would 
follow the example of time itself, which in- 
deed innovateth greatly, but quietly, and 
by degrees scarce to be perceived. For other- 
wise, whatsoever is new is unlooked for ; and 
ever it mends some, and pairs other ; and he 
that is holpen takes it for a fortune, and 
thanks the time; and he that is hurt for a 
wrong, and imputeth it to the author. It is 
good also not to try experiments in states, 
except the necessity be urgent, or the utility 
evident; and well to beware that it be the 
reformation that draweth on the change, 
and not the desire of change that pretendeth 
the reformation. And lastly, that the novel- 
ty, though it be not rejected, yet be held for a 
suspect; and, as the Scripture saith, "that 
we make a stand upon the ancient way, and 
then look about us, and discover what is 
the straight and right way, and so to walk 
in it." 



68 



Of Dispatch 



OF DISPATCH. 

Affected dispatch is one of the most dan- 
gerous things to business that can be. It is 
like that which the physicians call predi- 
gestion, or hasty digestion ; which is sure to 
fill the body full of crudities, and secret seeds 
of diseases. Therefore measure not dispatch 
by the times of sitting, but by the advance- 
ment of the business. And as in races it is 
not the large stride or high lift that makes 
the speed; so in business, the keeping close 
to the matter, and not taking of it too much 
at once, procureth dispatch. It is the care 
of some only to come off speedily for the 
time; or to contrive some false periods of 
business, because they may seem men of dis- 
patch. But it is one thing to abbreviate by 
contracting, another by cutting off. And 
business so handled at several sittings or 
meetings goeth commonly backward and 
forward in an unsteady manner. I knew a 
wise man, that had it for a by-word, when 
he saw men hasten to a conclusion, ''Stay a 
little, that we may make an end the sooner." 

On the other side, true dispatch is a rich 
thing. For time is the measure of business, as 
money is of wares ; and business is bought 
at a dear hand where there is small dispatch. 
The Spartans and Spaniards have been noted 
69 



Bacon 

to be of small despatch: "Mi venga la muerte 
de Spagna;" "Let my death come from 
Spain;" for then it will be sure to be long in 
coming. 

Give good hearing to those that give the 
first information in business; and rather di- 
rect them in the beginning, than interrupt 
them in the continuance of their speeches ; for 
he that is put out of his own order will go 
forward and backward, and be more tedious 
while he waits upon his memory, than he 
could have been if he had gone on in his 
own course. But sometimes it is seen that 
the moderator is more troublesome than the 
actor. 

Iterations are commonly loss of time. But 
there is no such gain of time as to iterate 
often the state of the question; for it chaseth 
away many a frivolous speech as it is com- 
ing forth. Long and curious speeches are 
as fit for dispatch, as a robe or mantle 
with a long train is for a race. Prefaces 
and passages, and excusations, and other 
speeches of reference to the person, are great 
wastes of time; and though they seem to 
proceed of modesty, they are bravery. Yet 
beware of being too material when there is 
any impediment or obstruction in men's 
wills; for pre-occupation of mind ever re- 
quireth preface of speech ; like a fomentation 
to make the unguent enter. 

Above all things, order, and distribution, 
70 



Of Seeming Wise 

and singling out of parts, is the life of dis- 
patch; so as the distribution be not too 
subtle : for he that doth not divide will never 
enter well into business ; and he that divideth 
too much will never come out of it clearly. 
To choose time is to save time; and an un- 
seasonable motion is but beating the air. 
There be three parts of business ; the prepara- 
tion, the debate or examination, and the 
perfection; whereof, if you look for dispatch, 
let the middle only be the work of many, 
and the first and last the work of few. The 
proceeding upon somewhat conceived in 
writing doth for the most part facilitate 
dispatch: for though it should be wholly 
rejected, yet that negative is more pregnant 
of direction than an indefinite ; as ashes are 
more generative than dust. 



OF SEEMING WISE. 

It hath been an opinion, that the French 
are wiser than they seem, and the Spaniards 
seem wiser than they are. But howsoever it 
he between nations, certainly it is so between 
man and man. For as the apostle saith of 
godliness, "Having a shew of godliness, but 
denying the power thereof;" so certainly 
there are in point of "wisdom and sufficiency, 
that do nothing or little very solemnly: 
71 



Bacon 

"magno conatu nugas." It is a ridiculous 
thing and fit for a satire to persons of 
judgment, to see what shifts these formalists 
have, and what prospectives to make super- 
ficies to seem body that hath depth and 
bulk. Some are so close and reserved, as 
they will not shew their wares but by a 
dark light; and seem always to keep back 
somewhat; and when they know within 
themselves they speak of that they do not 
well know, would nevertheless seem to others 
to know of that which they may not well 
speak. Some help themselves with counte- 
nance and gesture, and are wise by signs ; as 
Cicero saith of Piso, that when he answered 
him he fetched one of his brows up to his 
forehead, and bent the other down to his 
chin; "Respondes, altero ad frontem sublato, 
altero ad mentum deprepso supercilio, crudel- 
itatem tibi non placere." Some think to 
bear it by speaking a great word, and being 
peremptory; and go on, and take by ad- 
mittance that which they cannot make good. 
Some, whatsoever is beyond their reach, will 
seem to despise or make light of it as im- 
pertinent or curious; and so would have 
their ignorance seem judgment. Some are 
never without a difference, and commonly 
by amusing men with a subtilty, blanch the 
matter; of whom A. Gellius saith, "Hominem 
delirum, qui verborum minutiis rerum fran- 
git pondera:" [a trifler, that with verbal 
72 



Of Friendship 

points and niceties breaks up the mass of 
matter.] Of which kind also, Plato in his 
Protagoras bringeth in Prodicus in scorn, 
and maketh him make a speech that con- 
sisteth of distinctions from the beginning 
to the end. Generally, such men in all delib- 
erations find ease to be of the negative side, 
and affect a credit to object and foretell 
difficulties ; for when propositions are denied, 
there is an end of them; but if they be al- 
lowed, it requireth a new work ; which false 
point of wisdom is the bane of business. To 
conclude, there is no decaying merchant, or 
inward beggar, hath so many tricks to up- 
hold the credit of their wealth, as these 
empty persons have to maintain the credit 
of their, sufficiency. Seeming wise men may 
make shift to get opinion; but let no man 
choose them for employment ; for certainly, 
you were better take for business a man 
somewhat absurd than over-formal. 



OF FRIENDSHIP. 

It had been hard for him that spake it to 
have put more truth and untruth together 
in few words, than in that speech, "Whoso- 
ever is delighted in solitude is either a wild 
beast or a god." For it is most true, that 
a natural and secret hatred and aversation 
73 



Bacon 

towards society in any man, hath somewhat 
of the savage beast; but it is most untrue 
that it should have any character at all of 
the divine nature ; except it proceed, not out 
of a pleasure in solitude, but out of a love 
and desire to sequester a man's self for a 
higher conversation : such as is found to have 
been falsely and feignedly in some of the 
heathen ; as Epimenides the Candian, Numa 
the Roman, Empedocles the Sicilian, and 
Apollonius of Tyana; and truly and really 
in divers of the ancient hermits and holy 
fathers of the church. But little do men per- 
ceive what solitude is, and how far it ex- 
tendeth. For a crowd is not company ; and 
faces are but a gallery of pictures; and talk 
but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love. 
The Latin adage meeteth with it a little: 
"Magna ci vitas, magna solitude;" [a great 
town is a great solitude;] because in a 
great town friends are scattered; so that 
there is not that fellowship, for the most 
part, which is in less neighbourhoods. But 
we may go further, and affirm most truly 
that it is a mere and miserable solitude to 
want true friends ; without which the world 
is but a wilderness; and even in this sense 
also of solitude, whosoever in the frame of 
his nature and affections is unfit for friend- 
ship, he taketh it of the beast, and not from 
humanity. 

A principal fruit of friendship is the ease 
74 



Of Friendship 

and discharge of the fulness and swellings of 
the heart, which passions of all kinds do 
cause and induce. We know diseases of 
stoppings and suffocations are the most 
dangerous in the body; and it is not much 
otherwise in the mind; you may take sarza 
to open the liver, steel to open the spleen, 
flower of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum 
for the brain; but no receipt openeth the 
heart but a true friend; to whom you may 
impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, 
counsels, and whatsoever lieth upon the 
heart to oppress it, in a kind of civil shrift 
or confession. 

It is a strange thing to observe how high 
a rate great kings and monarchs do set upon 
this fruit of friendship whereof we speak : so 
great, as they purchase it many times at the 
hazard of their own safety and greatness: 
for princes, in regard of the distance of their 
fortune from that of their subjects and ser- 
vants, cannot gather this fruit, except (to 
make themselves capable thereof) they raise 
some persons to be as it were companions 
and almost ecmals to themselves, which 
many times sorteth to inconvenience. The 
modern languages give unto such persons the 
name of favourites, or privadoes ; as if it 
were matter of grace, or conversation. But 
the Roman name attaineth the true use and 
cause thereof, naming them "participes cura- 
rum;" for it is that which tieth the knot. 



Bacon 

And we see plainly that this hath been done, 
not by weak and passionate princes only, 
but by the wisest and most politic that ever 
reigned ; who have oftentimes joined to them- 
selves some of their servants; whom both 
themselves have called friends, and allowed 
others likewise to call them in the same 
manner; using the word which is received 
between private men. 
/ L. Sylla, when he commanded Rome, raised 
Pompey (after surnamed the Great) to that 
height, that Pompey vaunted himself for 
Sylla' s overmatch. For when he had carried 
the consulship for a friend of his, against the 
pursuit of Sylla, and that Sylla did a little 
resent thereat, and began to speak great, 
Pompey turned upon him again, and in 
effect bade him be quiet; "for that more men 
adored the sun rising than the sun setting." 
With Julius Caesar, Decimus Brutus had ob- 
tained that interest, as he set him clown in 
his testament for heir in remainder after his 
nephew. And this was the man that had 
power with him to draw him forth to his 
death. For when Caesar would have dis- 
charged the senate, in regard of some ill pres- 
ages, and specially a dream of Calpurnia ; this 
man lifted him gently by the arm out of his 
chair, telling him he hoped he would not dis- 
miss the senate till his wife had dreamed a 
better dream. And it seemeth his favour was 
so great, as Antonius,- in a letter which is re- 
76 



Of Friendship 

cited verbatim in one of Cicero's Philippics, 
calleth him "venefica," "witch;" as if he 
had enchanted Cassar. Augustus raised 
Agrippa (though of mean birth) to that 
height, as when he consulted with Maecenas 
about the marriage of his daughter Julia, 
Maecenas took the liberty to tell him, "that 
he must either marry his daughter to 
Agrippa, or take away his life : there was no 
third way, he had made him so great." With 
Tiberius Caesar, Sejanus had ascended to 
that height, as they two were termed and 
reckoned as a pair of friends. Tiberius in a 
letter to him saith, "hasc pro amicitia, 
nostra non occultavi;" [these things, as our 
friendship required, I have not concealed 
from you;] and the whole senate dedicated 
an altar to Friendship, as to a goddess, 
in respect of the great dearness of friend- 
ship between them two. The like or more 
was between Septimius Severus and Plauti- 
anus; for he forced his eldest son to marry 
the daughter of Platitianus; and would often 
maintain Plautianus in doing affronts to his 
son; and did write also, in a letter to the 
senate, by these words: 'T love the man so 
well, as I wish he may over-live me." Now, 
if these princes had been as a Trajan or a 
Marcus Aurelius, a man might have thought 
that this had proceeded of an abundant 
goodness of nature ; but being men so wise, 
of such strength and severity of mind, and 
77 



Bacon 

so extreme lovers of themselves, as all these 
were, it proveth most plainly that they 
found their own felicity (though as great as 
ever happened to mortal men) but as an half 
piece, except they mought have a friend to 
make it entire ; and yet, which is more, they 
were princes that had wives, sons, nephews ; 
and yet all these could not supply the com- 
fort of friendship. 

It is not to be forgotten what Comineus 
observeth of his first master, Duke Charles 
the Hardy ; namely, that he would communi- 
cate his secrets with none; and least of all, 
those secrets which troubled him most. 
Whereupon he goeth on, and saith that 
towards his latter time "that closeness did 
impair and a little perish his understanding." 
Surely Comineus might have made the same 
judgment also, if it had pleased him, of his 
second master Lewis the Eleventh, whose 
closeness was indeed his tormentor. The 
parable of Pythagoras is dark but true, 
"Cor ne edito:" "Eat not the heart." Cer- 
tainly, if a man would give it a hard phrase, 
those that want friends to open themselves 
unto are cannibals of their own hearts : but 
one thing is most admirable (wherewith I will 
conclude this first fruit of friendship), which 
is, that this communicating of a man's self 
to his friend works two contrary effects; for 
it redoubleth joys, and cutteth griefs in halfs. 
For there is no man that imparteth his joys 
78 



Of Friendship 

to his friend, but he joyeth the more: and no 
man that imparteth his griefs to his friend, 
but he grieveth the less. So that it is in 
truth of operation upon a man's mind, of 
like virtue as the alchymists use to attribute 
to their stone for man's body ; that it work- 
eth all contrary effects, but still to the good 
and benefit of nature. But yet without 
praying in aid of alchymists, there is a mani- 
fest image of this in the ordinary course of 
nature. For in bodies, union strengtheneth 
and cherisheth any natural action; and on 
the other side weakeneth and dulleth any 
violent impression; and even so it is of 
minds. 

The second fruit of friendship is healthful 
and sovereign for the understanding, as the 
first is for the affections ; for friendship 
maketh indeed a fair day in the affections, 
from storm and tempests; but it maketh 
daylight in the understanding, out of dark- 
ness and confusion of thoughts : neither is 
this to be understood only of faithful coun- 
sel, which a man receiveth from his friend; 
but before you come to that, certain it is 
that whosoever hath his mind fraught with 
many thoughts, his wits and understanding 
do clarify and break up, in the communi- 
cating and discoursing with another; he 
tosseth his thoughts more easily; he mar- 
shalleth them more orderly; he seeth how 
they look when they are turned into words : 
79 



Bacon 

finally, he waxeth wiser than himself; and 
that more by an hour's discourse than by a 
day's meditation. It was well said by 
Themistocles to the King of Persia, "That 
speech was like cloth of Arras, opened and 
put abroad ; whereby the imagery doth ap- 
pear in figure ; whereas in thoughts they 
lie but as in packs." Neither is the second 
fruit of friendship, in opening the under- 
standing, restrained only to such friends as 
are able to give a man counsel; (they indeed 
are best;) but even without that, a man 
learneth of himself, and bringeth his own 
thoughts to light, and whetteth his wits as 
against a stone, which itself cuts not. In a 
word, a man were better relate himself to a 
statua or picture, than to suffer his thoughts 
to pass in smother. 

Add now, to make this second fruit of 
friendship complete, that other point which 
lieth more open and falleth within vulgar 
observation ; which is faithful counsel from a 
friend. Heraclitus saith well in one of his 
enigmas, "Dry light is ever the best." And 
certain it is, that the light that a man 
receiveth by counsel from another, is drier 
and purer than that which cometh from his 
own understanding and judgment; which is 
ever infused and drenched in his affections 
and customs. So as there is as much differ- 
ence between the counsel that a friend giveth, 
and that a man giveth himself, as there is 
80 



Of Friendship 

between the counsel of a friend and of a 
flatterer. For there is no such flatterer as is 
a man's self; and there is no such remedy 
against flattery of a man's self, as the liberty 
of a friend. Counsel is of two sorts: the 
one concerning manners, the other concern- 
ing business. For the first, the best preserva- 
tive to keep the mind in health is the faith- 
ful admonition of a friend. The calling of a 
man's self to a strict account is a medicine, 
sometime, too piercing and corrosive. Read- 
ing good books of morality is a little flat 
and dead. Observing our faults in others is 
sometimes improper for our case. But the 
best receipt (best, I say, to work, and best to 
take) is the admonition of a friend. It is a 
strange thing to behold what gross errors 
and extreme absurdities many (especially of 
the greater sort) do commit, for want of a 
friend to tell them of them; to the great 
damage both of their fame and fortune : for, 
as St. James saith, they are as men "that 
look sometimes into a glass, and presently 
forget their own shape and favour." As for 
business, a man may think, if he will, that 
two eyes see no more than one ; or that a 
gamester seeth always more than a ,looker- 
on ; or that a man in anger is as wise as he 
that hath said over the four and twenty 
letters; or, that a musket may be shot off 
as well upon the arm as upon a rest; and 
such other fond and high imaginations, to 
6 81 



Bacon 

think himself all in all. But when all is 
done, the help of good counsel is that which 
setteth business straight. And if any man 
think that he will take counsel, but it shall 
be by pieces; asking counsel in one business 
of one man, and in another business of an- 
other man; it is well (that is to say, better 
perhaps than if he asked none at all;) but 
he runneth two dangers: one, that he shall 
not be faithfully counselled; for it is a rare 
thing, except it be from a perfect and entire 
friend, to have counsel given, but such as 
shall be bowed and crooked to some ends 
which he hath that giveth it. The other, 
that he shall have counsel given, hurtful and 
unsafe, (though with good meaning,) and 
mixed partly of mischief and partly of 
remedy ; even as if you would call a physi- 
cian that is thought good for the^cure of the 
disease you complain of, but is unacquainted 
with your body ; and therefore may put you 
in a way for a present cure, but over thro w- 
eth your health in some other kind; and 
so cure the disease and .kill the patient. But 
a friend that is wholly acquainted with a 
man's estate will beware, by furthering any 
present business, how he dasheth upon other 
inconvenience. And therefore rest not upon 
scattered counsels ; they will rather distract 
and mislead, than settle and direct. 

After these two noble fruits of friendship, 
(peace in the affections, and support of the 
82 



Of Friendship 

judgment,) folio weth the last fruit which is; 
like the pomegranate, full of many kernels; 
I mean, aid and bearing a part in all actions 
and occasions. Here the best way to repre- 
sent to life the manifold use of friendship, is 
to cast and see how many things there are 
which a man cannot do himself; and then it 
will appear that it was a sparing speech of 
the ancients, to say, "that a friend is another 
himself;" for that a friend is far more than 
himself. Men have their time, and die many 
times in desire of some things which they 
principally take to heart ; the bestowing of a 
child, the finishing of a work, or the like. 
If a man have a true friend, he may rest 
almost secure that the care of those things 
will continue after him. So that a man hath, 
as it were, two lives in his desires. A man 
hath a body, and that body is confined to a 
place; but where friendship is, all offices of 
life are, as it were, granted to him and his 
deputy. For he may exercise them by his 
friend. How many things are there which a 
man cannot, with any face or comeliness, 
say or do himself? A man can scarce allege 
his own merits with modesty, much less 
extol them ; a man cannot sometimes brook 
to supplicate or beg ; and a number of the 
like. But all these things are graceful in a 
friend's mouth, which are blushing in a 
man's own. So again, a man's person hath 
many proper relations which he cannot put 
83 



Bacon 

off. A man cannot speak to his son but as 
a father; to his wife but as a husband; to 
his enemy but upon terms : whereas a friend 
may speak as the case requires, and not as 
it sorteth with the person. But to enumerate 
these things were endless; I have given the 
rule, where a man cannot fitly play his own 
part ; if he have not a friend, he may quit the 
stage. 



OF EXPENSE. 

Riches are for spending, and spending for 
honour and good action. Therefore extraor- 
dinary expense must be limited by the worth 
of the occasion ; for voluntary undoing may 
be as well for a man's country as for the 
kingdom of heaven; but ordinary expense 
ought to be limited by a man's estate; and 
governed with such regard, as it be within 
his compass; and not subject to deceit and 
abuse of servants ; and ordered to the best 
shew, that the bills may be less than the 
estimation abroad. Certainty, if a man will 
keep but of even hand, his ordinary expenses 
ought to be but to the half of his receipts; 
and if he think to wax rich, but to the third 
part. It is no baseness for the greatest to 
descend and look into their own estate. 
Some forbear it, not upon negligence alone, 
but doubting to bring themselves into 
84 



Of Expense 

melancholy, in respect they shall find it 
broken. But wounds cannot be cured with- 
out searching. He that cannot look into his 
own estate at all, had need both choose 
well those whom he employeth, and change 
them often ; for new are more timorous and 
less subtle. He that can look into his estate 
but seldom, it behoveth him to turn all to 
certainties. A man had need, if he be plenti- 
ful in some kind of expense, to be saving 
again income other. As if he be plentiful in 
diet, to be saving in apparel; if he be plenti- 
ful in the hall, to be saving in the stable; 
and the like. For he that is plentiful in ex- 
penses of all kinds will hardly be preserved 
from decay. In clearing of a man's estate, 
he may as well hurt himself in being in too 
sudden, as in letting it run on too long. For 
hasty selling is commonly as disadvantage- 
able as interest. Besides, he that clears at 
once will relapse ; for finding himself out of 
straits, he will revert to his customs : but he 
that cleareth by degrees induce th a habit of 
frugality, and gaineth as well upon his mind 
as upon his estate. Certainly, who hath a 
state to repair, may not despise small things ; 
and, commonly, it is less dishonourable 
to abridge petty charges, than to stoop 
to petty gettings. A man ought warily to 
begin charges which once begun will con- 
tinue: but in matters that return not he 
may be more magnificent. 
85 



Bacon 



OF REGIMENT OF HEALTH. 

There is a wisdom in this beyond the rules 
of physic: a man's own observation, what he 
finds good of, and what he finds hurt of, is 
the best physic to preserve health; but it is 
a safer conclusion to say, "This agreeth not 
-well with me, therefore I will not continue 
it;" than this, "I find no offence of this, 
therefore I may use it." For strength of 
nature in youth passeth over many excesses 
-which are owing a man till his age. Discern 
of the coming on of years, and think not to 
do the same things still ; for age will not be 
defied. Beware of sudden change in any 
great point of diet, and if necessity inforce 
it, fit the rest to it. For it is a secret both 
in nature and state, that it is safer to change 
many things than one. Examine thy cus- 
toms of diet, sleep, exercise, apparel, and the 
like; and try, in any thing thou shalt judge 
hurtful, to discontinue it by little and little ; 
but so, if thou dost find any inconvenience 
by the change, thou come back to it again : 
for it is hard to distinguish that which is 
generally held good and wholesome, from 
that which is good particularly, and fit for 
thine own body. To be free-minded and 
cheerfully disposed at hours of meat and of 
sleep and of exercise, is one of the best pre- 
86 



Of Regiment of Health 

cepts of long lasting. As for the passions 
and studies of the mind; avoid envy; anxious 
fears; anger fretting inwards; subtle and 
knotty inquisitions; joys and exhilarations 
in excess; sadness not communicated. En- 
tertain hopes; mirth rather than joy; variety 
of delights, rather than surfeit of them; won- 
der and admiration, and therefore novelties ; 
studies that fill the mind with splendid and 
illustrious objects, as histories, fables, and 
contemplations of nature. If you fly physic 
in health altogether, it will be too strange 
for your body when you shall need it. If 
you make it too familiar, it will work no 
extraordinary effect when sickness cometh. 
I commend rather some diet for certain sea- 
sons, than frequent use of physic, except it be 
grown into a custom. For those diets alter 
the body more, and trouble it less. Despise 
no new accident in your body, but ask opin- 
ion of it. In sickness, respect health princi- 
pally ; and in health, action. For those that 
put their bodies to endure in health, may in 
most sicknesses, which are not very sharp, 
be cured only with diet and tendering. Cel- 
sus could never have spoken it as a physi- 
cian, had he not been a "wise man withal, 
when he giveth it for one of the great pre- 
cepts of health and lasting, that a man do 
vary and interchange contraries, but with an 
inclination to the more benign extreme: use 
fasting and full eating, but rather full eating ; 
87 



Bacon 

watching and sleep, but rather sleep ; sitting 
and exercise, but rather exercise; and the 
like. So shall nature be cherished, and yet 
taught masteries. Physicians are some of 
them so pleasing and comfortable to the 
humour of the patient, as they press not the 
true cure of the disease ; and some other are 
so regular in proceeding according to art for 
the disease, as they respect not sufficiently 
the condition of the patient. Take one of a 
middle temper ; or if it may not be found in 
one man, combine two of either sort ; and 
forget not to call as well the best acquainted 
with your body, as the best reputed of for 
his faculty. 



OF SUSPICION. 

Suspicions amongst thoughts-are like bats 
amongst birds, they ever fly by twilight: 
certainly they are to be repressed, or at least 
well guarded : for they cloud the mind ; they 
leese friends; and they check with business, 
whereby business cannot go on currently 
and constantly. They dispose kings to ty- 
ranny, husbands to jealousy, wise men to 
irresolution and melancholy. They are de- 
fects, not in the heart, but in the brain ; for 
they take place in the stoutest natures ; as 
in the example of Henry the Seventh of 
England. There was not a more suspicious 
man, nor a more stout. And in such a com- 



Of Suspicion 

position they do small hurt. For commonly 
they are not admitted, but with examina- 
tion, whether they be likely or no? But in 
fearful natures they gain ground too fast. 
There is nothing makes a man suspect much, 
more than to know little; and therefore 
men should remedy suspicion by procuring 
to know more, and not to keep their suspi- 
cions in smother. What would men have? 
Do they think those they employ and deal 
with are saints? Do they not think they 
will have their own ends, and be truer to 
themselves than to them? Therefore there is 
no better way to moderate suspicions, than 
to account upon such suspicions as true and 
yet to bridle them as false. For so far a man 
ought to make use of suspicions, as to pro- 
vide, as if that should be true that he sus- 
pects, yet it may do him no hurt. Suspicions 
that the mind of itself gathers are but buzz- 
es; but suspicions that are artificially nour- 
ished, and put into men's heads by the tales 
and whisperings of others, have stings. Cer- 
tainly, the best mean to clear the way in 
this same wood of suspicions, is frankly to 
communicate them with the party that he 
suspects ; for thereby he shall be sure to 
know more of the truth of them than he did 
before; and withal shall make that party 
more circumspect not to give further cause 
of suspicion. But this would not be done to 
men of base natures ; for they, if they find 
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Bacon 

themselves once suspected, will never be true. 
The Italian says, "Sospetto licentia fede;" as 
if suspicion did give a x passport to faith; but 
it ought rather to kindle it to discharge 
itself. 



OF DISCOURSE. 

Some in their discourse desire rather com- 
mendation of wit, in being able to hold all 
arguments, than of judgment, in discerning 
what is true ; as if it were a praise to know 
what might be said, and not what should be 
thought. Some have certain common-places 
and themes wherein they are good, and 
want variety ; which kind of poverty is for 
the most part tedious, and, when it is once 
perceived, ridiculous. The honourablest part 
of talk is to give the occasion; and again to 
moderate and pass to somewhat else; for 
then a man leads the dance. It is good, in 
discourse and speech of conversation, to vary 
and intermingle speech of the present occa- 
sion with arguments, tales with reasons, 
asking of questions with telling of opinions, 
and jest with earnest: for it is a dull thing 
to tire, and, as we say now, to jade, any 
thing too far. As for jest, there be certain 
things which ought to be privileged from it ; 
namely, religion, matters of state, great per- 
sons, any man's present business of impor- 
90 



Of Discourse 

tance, any case that deserveth pity. Yet 
there be some that think their wits have 
been asleep, except they dart out somewhat 
that is piquant, and to the quick. That is a 
vein which would be bridled; 

Parce, puer, stimulis, et fortius utere loris. 

And, generally, men ought to find the differ- 
ence between saltness and bitterness. Cer- 
tainly, he that hath a satirical vein, as he 
maketh others afraid of his wit, so he had 
need be afraid of others' memory. He that 
questioneth much, shall learn much, and con- 
tent much; but especially if he apply his 
questions to the skill of the persons whom 
he asketh ; for he shall give them occasion to 
please themselves in speaking, and himself 
shall continually gather knowledge. But let 
his questions not be troublesome ; for that is 
fit for a poser. And let him be sure to leave 
other men their turns to speak. Nay, if there 
be any that would reign and take up all the 
time, let him find means to take them off, 
and to bring others on ; as musicians use to 
do with those that dance too long galliards. 
If you dissemble sometimes your knowledge 
of that you are thought to know, you shall 
be thought another time to know that you 
know not. Speech of a man's self ought to 
be seldom, and well chosen. I knew one was 
wont to say in scorn, "He must needs be a 
wise man, he speaks so much of himself:" 
91 



Bacon 

and there is but one case wherein a man may 
commend himself with good grace; and that 
is in commending virtue in another; espe- 
cially if it be such a virtue whereunto him- 
self pretendeth. Speech of touch towards 
others should be sparingly used; for dis- 
course ought to be as a field, without coming 
home to any man. I knew two noblemen, of 
the west part of England, whereof the one 
was given to scoff, but kept ever royal cheer 
in his house ; the other would ask of those 
that had been at the other's table, "Tell 
truly, was there never a flout or dry blow 
given?" To which the guest would answer, 
"Such and such a thing passed." The lord 
would say, "I thought he would mar a good 
dinner." Discretion of speech is more than 
eloquence; and to speak agreeably to him 
with whom we deal, is more than to speak 
in good words or in good order. A good 
continued speech, without a good speech of 
interlocution, shews slowness ; and a good 
reply or second speech, without a good 
settled speech, sheweth shallowness and 
weakness. As we see in beasts, that those 
that are weakest in the course, are yet 
nimblest in the turn; as it is betwixt the 
greyhound and the hare. To use too many 
circumstances ere one come to the matter, is 
wearisome; to use none at all, is blunt. 



92 



Of Plantations 



OF PLANTATIONS. 



Plantations are amongst ancient, primi- 
tive, and heroical works. When the world 
was young it begat more children ; but now 
it is old, it begets fewer: for I may justly 
account new plantations to be the children 
of former kingdoms. I like a plantation in a 
pure soil; that is, where people are not dis- 
planted to the end to plant in others. For 
else it is rather an extirpation than a plan- 
tation. Planting of countries is like plant- 
ing of woods ; for you must make account to 
leese almost twenty years profit, and expect 
your recompense in the end. For the principal 
thing that hath been the destruction of most 
plantations, hath been the base and hasty 
drawing of profit in the first years. It is 
true, speedy profit is not to be neglected, as 
far as may stand with the good of the plan- 
tation, but no further. It is a shameful and 
unblessed thing to take the scum of people, 
and wicked condemned men, to be the people 
with whom jou plant ; and not only so, but 
it spoileth the plantation ; for they will ever 
live like rogues, and not fall to work, but be 
lazy, and do mischief, and spend victuals, 
and be quickly weary, and then certify over 
to their country to the discredit of the plan- 
tation. The people wherewith you plant 
ought to be gardeners, ploughmen, labour- 
93 



Bacon 

ers, smiths, carpenters, joiners, fishermen, 
fowlers, with some few apothecaries, sur- 
geons, cooks, and bakers. In a country of 
plantation, first look about -what kind of 
victual the country yields of itself to hand ; 
as chestnuts, walnuts, pineapples, olives, 
dates, plums, cherries, wild honey, and the 
like ; and make use of them. Then consider 
what victual or esculent things there are, 
which grow speedily, and within the year; 
as parsnips, carrots, turnips, onions, radish, 
artichokes of Hierusalem, maize, and the 
like. For wheat, barley, and oats, they ask 
too much labour ; but with pease and beans 
you may begin, both because they ask less 
labour, and because they serve for meat as 
well as for bread. And of rice likewise 
cometh a great increase, and it is a kind of 
meat. Above all, there ought to be brought 
store of biscuit, oatmeal, flour, meal, and the 
like, in the beginning, till bread may be had. 
For beasts, or birds, take chiefly such as are 
least subject to diseases, and multiply fast- 
est; as swine, goats, cocks, hens, turkeys, 
geese, house-doves, and the like. The victual 
in plantations ought to be expended almost 
as in a besieged town ; that is, with certain 
allowance. And let the main part of the 
ground employed to gardens or corn, be to 
a common stock; and to be laid in, and 
stored up, and then delivered out in propor- 
tion ; besides some spots of ground that any 
94 



Of Plantations 

particular person will manure for his own 
private. Consider likewise what commodi- 
ties the soil where the plantation is doth 
naturally yield, that they may some way 
help to defray the charge of the plantation, 
(so it be not, as was said, to the untimely 
prejudice of the main business,) as it hath 
fared with tobacco in Virginia. Wood com- 
monly aboundeth but too much; and there- 
fore timber is fit to be one. If there be iron 
ore, and streams whereupon to set the mills, 
iron is a brave commodity where wood 
aboundeth. Making of bay-salt, if the cli- 
mate be proper for it, would be put in ex- 
perience. Growing silk likewise, if any be, is 
a likely commodity. Pitch and tar, where 
store of firs and pines are, will not fail. So 
drugs and sweet woods, where they are, can- 
not but yield great profit. Soap-ashes like- 
wise, and other things that may be thought 
of. But moil not too much under ground; 
for the hope of mines is very uncertain, and 
useth to make the planters lazy in other 
things. For government, let it be in the 
hands of one, assisted with some counsel; 
and let them have commission to exercise 
martial laws, with some limitation. And, 
above all, let men make that profit of being 
in the wilderness, as they have God always, 
and his service, before their eyes. Let not 
the government of the plantation depend 
upon too many counsellors and undertakers 
95 



Bacon 

in the country that planteth, but upon a 
temperate number; and let those be rather 
noblemen and gentlemen, than merchants; 
for they look ever to the present gain. Let 
there be freedoms from custom, till the plan- 
tation be of strength ; and not only freedom 
from custom, but freedom to carry their 
commodities where they may make their best 
of them, except there be some special cause 
of caution. Cram not in people, by sending 
too fast company after company; but rather 
harken how they -waste, and send supplies 
proportionately ; but so as the number may 
live well in the plantation, and not by sur- 
charge be in penury. It hath been a great 
endangering to the health of some planta- 
tions, that they have built along the sea and 
rivers, in marish and unwholesome grounds. 
Therefore, though you begin there, to avoid 
carriage and other like discommodities, yet 
build still rather upwards from the streams, 
than along. It concerneth likewise the 
health of the plantation that they have good 
store of salt with them, that they may use 
it in their victuals, when it shall be neces- 
sary. If you plant where savages are, do 
not only entertain them with trifles and 
gingles; but use them justly and graciously, 
with sufficient guard nevertheless; and do 
not win their favour by helping them to in- 
vade their enemies, but for their defence it is 
not amiss ; and send oft of them over to the 
96 



Of Riches 

country that plants, that they may see a 
better condition than their own, and com- 
mend it when they return. When the plan- 
tation grows to strength, then it is time to 
plant with women as well as with men ; that 
the plantation may spread into generations, 
and not be ever pieced from without. It is 
the sinfullest thing in the world to forsake or 
destitute a plantation once in forwardness; 
for besides the dishonour, it is the guiltiness 
of blood of many commiserable persons. 



OP RICHES. 

I cannot call Riches better than the bag- 
gage of virtue. The Roman word is better, 
"impedimenta;" for as the baggage is to an 
army, so is riches to virtue. It cannot be 
spared nor left behind, but it hindereth the 
march; yea and the care of it sometimes 
loseth or disturbeth the victory. Of great 
riches there is no real use, except it be in the 
distribution ; the rest is but conceit. So saith 
Salomon, "Where much is, there are many to 
consume it; and what hath the owner but 
the sight of it with his eyes?" The personal 
fruition in any man cannot reach to feel 
great riches: there is a custody of them; or a 
power of dole and donative of them ; or a 
fame of them ; but no solid use to the owner. 
7 97 



Bacon 

Do you not see what feigned prices are set 
upon little stones and rarities? and what 
works of ostentation are undertaken, because 
there might seem to be some use of great 
riches? But then you will say, they may be 
of use to buy men out of dangers or trou- 
bles. As Salomon saith, "Riches are as a 
strong hold, in the imagination of the rich 
man." But this is excellently expressed, that 
it is in imagination, and not always in fact. 
For certainly great riches have sold more 
men than they have bought out. Seek not 
proud riches, but such as thou mayest get 
justly, use soberly, distribute cheerfully, and 
leave contentedly. Yet have no abstract or 
friarly contempt of them. But distinguish, 
as Cicero saith well of Rabirius Posthumus, 
"In studios rei amplificandas apparebat, non 
avaritiae praedam, sed instrumentum boni- 
tati quaeri;" [In seeking to increase his 
estate it was apparent that he sought not a 
prey for avarice to feed on, but an instru- 
ment for goodness to work with.] Harken 
also to Solomon, and beware of hasty gath- 
ering of riches; "Qui festinat ad divitias, non 
erit insons:" [He that maketh haste to be 
rich shall not be innocent.] The poets feign, 
that when Plutus (which is Riches) is sent 
from Jupiter, he limps and goes slowly ; but 
when he is sent from Pluto, he runs and is 
swift of foot. Meaning, that riches gotten 
by good means and just labour pace slowly ; 
98 



Of Riches 

but when they come by the death of others 
(as by the course of inheritance, testaments, 
and the like), they come tumbling upon a 
man. But it mought be applied likewise to 
Pluto, taking him for the devil. For when 
riches come from the devil (as by fraud and 
opjDression and unjust means), they come 
upon speed. The ways to enrich are many, 
and most of them foul. Parsimony is one 
of the best, and yet is not innocent; for 
it withholdeth men from works of liberal- 
ity and charity. The improvement of the 
ground is the most natural obtaining of 
riches; for it is our great mother's blessing, 
the earth's ; but it is slow. And yet where 
men of great wealth do stoop to husbandry, 
it multiplieth riches exceedingly. I knew a 
nobleman in England that had the greatest 
audits of any man in my time; a great 
grazier, a great sheep-master, a great timber 
man, a great collier, a great corn-master, a 
great lead-man, and so of iron, and a number 
of thelike points of husbandry. So as the 
earth seemed a sea to him, in respect of the 
perpetual importation. It was truly ob- 
served by one, that himself came very hardly 
to a little riches, and very easily to great 
riches. For when a man's stock is come to 
that, that he can expect the prime of mar- 
kets, and overcome those bargains which for 
their greatness are few men's money, and be 
partner in the industries of younger men, he 
99 

LofC. 



Bacon 

cannot but increase mainly. The gains of 
ordinary trades and vocations are honest; 
and furthered by two things chiefly : by dili- 
gence, and by a good name for good and 
fair dealings. But the gains of bargains are 
of a more doubtful nature; when men shall 
wait upon others' necessity, broke by ser- 
vants and instruments to draw them on, 
put off others cunningly that would be better 
chapmen, and the like practices, which are 
crafty and naughty. As for the chopping of 
bargains, -when a man buys not to hold but 
to sell over again, that commonly grindeth 
double, both upon the seller and upon the 
buyer. Sharings do greatly enrich, if the 
hands be well chosen that are trusted. 
Usury is the certainest means of gain, though 
Dne of the worst ; as that whereby a man 
doth eat his bread "in sudore vultus alieni;" 
[in the sweat of another man's face;] and 
besides, doth plough upon Sundays. But yet 
certain though it be, it hath flaws ; for that 
the scriveners and brokers do value unsound 
men to serve their own turn. The fortune in 
being the first in an invention or in a privi- 
lege, doth cause sometimes a wonderful over- 
growth in riches; as it was with the first 
sugar man in the Canaries. Therefore if a 
man can play the true logician, to have as 
well judgment as invention, he may do great 
matters; especially if the times be fit. He 
that resteth upon gains certain, shall hardly 
100 



Of Riches 

grow to grea,t riches; and he that puts all 
upon adventures, doth oftentimes break and 
come to poverty: it is good therefore to 
guard adventures with certainties, that may 
uphold losses. Monopolies, and coemption 
of wares for re-sale, where they are not re- 
strained, are great means to enrich; espe- 
cially if the party have intelligence what 
things are like to come into request, and so 
store himself beforehand. Riches gotten by 
service, though it be of the best rise, yet 
when they are gotten by flattery, feeding 
humours, and other servile conditions, they 
may be placed amongst the worst. As for 
fishing for testaments and executorships (as 
Tacitus saith of Seneca, "testamenta et 
orbos tamquam indagine capi,") it is yet 
"worse ; by how much men submit themselves 
to meaner persons than in service. Believe 
not much them that seem to despise riches; 
for they despise them that despair of them ; 
and none worse when they come to them. 
Be not penny- wise; riches have wings, and 
sometimes they fly away of themselves, 
sometimes they must be set flying to bring 
in more. Men leave their riches either to 
their kindred, or to the public ; and moderate 
portions prosper best in both. A great state 
left to an heir, is as a lure to all the birds 
of prey round about to seize on him, if he be 
not the better stablished in years and judg- 
ment. Likewise glorious gifts and founda* 
101 



Bacon 

tions are like sacrifices without salt ; and but 
the painted sepulchres of alms, which soon 
will putrefy and corrupt inwardly. There- 
fore measure not thine advancements by 
quantity, but frame them by measure: and 
defer not charities till death; for, certainly, 
if a man weigh it rightly, he that doth so is 
rather liberal of another man's than of his 



OF PROPHECIES. 

I mean not to speak of divine prophecies ; 
nor of heathen oracles; nor of natural predic- 
tions ; but only of prophecies that have been 
of certain memory, and from hidden causes. 
Saith the Pythonissa to Saul, "To-morrow 
thou and thy son shall be with me." Homer 
hath these verses: 

At domtis JEnese cunctis dominabitur oris, 
Et nati natorum, et qui iiascentur ab illis. 

[The house of Apneas shall reign in all lands, 
and his children's children, and their genera- 
tions.] A prophecy, as it seems, of the 
Roman empire. Seneca the tragedian hath 
these verses: 

Venient annis 

Ssecula seris, quibus Oceanus 
Vincula rerum laxet, et ingens 
Pateat Tellus, Tiphysque novos 
Detegat orbes; nee sit terris 
Ultima Thule : 
[There shall come a time when the bands of 
102 



Of Prophecies 

ocean shall be loosened, and the vast earth 
shall be laid open; another Tiphys shall 
disclose new worlds, and lands shall be 
seen beyond Thule :] a prophecy of the 
discovery of America. The daughter of 
Porycrates dreamed that Jupiter bathed 
her father, and Apollo anointed him ; and 
it came to pass that he was crucified in an 
open place, where the sun made his body 
run with sweat, and the rain washed it. 
Philip of Macedon dreamed he sealed up his 
wife's belly; whereby he did expound it, that 
his wife should be barren ; but Aristander the 
soothsayer told him his wife was with child, 
because men do not use to seal vessels that 
are empty. A phantasm that appeared to 
M. Brutus in his tent, said to him, "Philippis 
iterum me videbis:" [Thou shalt see me 
again at Philippi.] Tiberius said to Galba, 
"Tu quoque, Galba, degustabis imperium:" 
[Thou likewise shall taste of empire.] In 
Vespasian's time, there went a prophecy in 
the East, that those that should come forth 
of Judea should reign over the world; 
which though it may be was meant of our 
Saviour, yet Tacitus expounds it of Vespa- 
sian. Domitian dreamed, the night before he 
was slain, that a golden head was growing 
out of the nape of his neck : and indeed the 
succession that followed him, for many 
years, made golden times. Henry the Sixth 
of England said of Henry the Seventh, when 
103 



Bacon 

he was a lad, and gave him water, "This is 
the lad that shall enjoy the crown for which 
we strive." When I was in France, I heard 
from one Dr. Pena, that the Queen Mother, 
who was given to curious arts, caused the 
king her husband's nativity to be calculated, 
under a false name ; and the astrologer gave 
a judgment, that he should be killed in a 
duel; at which the Queen laughed, thinking 
her husband to be above challenges and 
duels: but he was slain upon a course at 
tilt, the splinters of the staff of Montgomery 
going in at his beaver. The trivial prophecy 
which I heard when I was a child, and Queen 
Elizabeth was in the flower of her years, 
was, 

When hempe is sponne 

England's done: 

whereby it was generally conceived, that 
after the princes had reigned which had the 
principal letters of that word hempe (which 
were Henry, Edward, Mary, Philip, and 
Elizabeth), England should come to utter con- 
fusion; which, thanks be to God, is verified 
only in the change of the name ; for that the 
king's style is now no more of England, but 
of Britain. There was also another prophecy, 
before the year of eighty-eight, which I do 
not well understand. 

There shall be seen upon a day, 
Between the Baugh and the May, 
The black fleet of Norway. 
104 



Of Prophecies 

When that that is come and gone, 
England build houses of lime and stone, 
For after wars shall you have none. 

It was generally conceived to be meant of the 
Spanish fleet that came in eighty-eight: for 
that the king of Spain's surname, as they 
say, is Norway. The prediction of Regio- 
montanus, 

Octogesimus octavus mirabilis annus, 

was thought likewise accomplished in the 
sending of that great fleet, being the greatest 
in strength, though not in number, of all 
that ever swam upon the sea. As for Cleon's 
dream, I think it was a jest. It w^as, that 
he was devoured of a long dragon; and it 
was expounded of a maker of sausages, that 
troubled him exceedingly. There are num- 
bers of the like kind; especially if you include 
dreams, and predictions of astrology. But I 
have set down these few only of certain 
credit, for example. My judgment is, that 
they ought all to be despised ; and ought to 
serve but for winter talk by the fireside. 
Though when I say despised, I mean it as for 
belief: for otherwise, the spreading or pub- 
lishing of them is in no sort to be despised. 
For they have done much mischief; and I see 
many severe laws made to suppress them. 
That that hath given them grace, and some 
credit, consisteth in three things. First, that 
men mark when they hit, and never mark 
105 



Bacon 

when they miss ; as they do generally also of 
dreams. The second is, that probable con- 
jectures, or obscure traditions, many times 
turn themselves into prophecies; while the 
nature of man, which coveteth divination, 
thinks it no peril to foretell that which in- 
deed they do but collect. As that of Seneca's 
verse. For so much was then subject to 
demonstration, that the globe of the earth 
had great parts beyond the Atlantic, which 
mought be probably conceived not to be all 
sea : and adding thereto the tradition in Pla- 
to's Timaeus, and his Atlanticus, it mought 
encourage one to turn it to a prediction. 
The third and last (which is the great one) 
is, that almost all of them, being infinite in 
number, have been impostures, and by idle 
and crafty brains merely contrived and 
feigned after the event past. 



OF AMBITION. 

Ambition is like choler; which is an hu- 
mour that maketh men active, earnest, full 
of alacrity, and stirring, if it be not stopped. 
But if it be stopped, and cannot have his 
way, it becometh adust, and thereby malign 
and venomous. So ambitious men, if they 
find the way open for their rising, and still 
get forward, they are rather busy than dan- 
106 



Of Ambition 

gerous; but if they be checked in their de- 
sires, they become secretly discontent, and 
look upon men and matters with an evil eye, 
and are best pleased when things go back- 
ward ; which is the worst property in a ser- 
vant of a prince or state. Therefore it is 
good for princes, if they use ambitious men, 
to handle it so as they be still progressive 
and not retrograde; which because it cannot 
be without inconvenience, it is good not to 
use such natures at all. For if they rise not 
with their service, they will take order to 
make their service fall with them. But since 
we have said it were good not to use men of 
ambitious natures, except it be upon neces- 
sity, it is fit we speak in what cases they 
are of necessity. Good commanders in the 
wars must be taken, be they never so ambi- 
tious ; for the use of their service dispense th 
with the rest ; and to take a soldier without 
ambition is to pull off his spurs. There is 
also great use of ambitious men in being 
screens to princes in matters of danger and 
envy ; for no man will take that part, except 
he be like a seeled dove, that mounts and 
mounts because he cannot see about him. 
There is use also of ambitious men in pulling 
down the greatness of any subject that over- 
tops; as Tiberius used Macro in the pulling 
down of Sejanus. Since therefore they must 
be used in such cases, there resteth to speak 
how they are to be bridled, that they may be 
107 



Bacon 

less dangerous. There is less danger of them 
if they be of mean birth, than if they be 
noble; and if they be rather harsh of nature, 
than gracious and popular: and if they be 
rather new raised, than grown cunning and 
fortified in their greatness. It is counted by 
some a weakness in princes to have favour- 
ites ; but it is of all others the best remedy 
against ambitious great-ones: for when the 
way of pleasuring and displeasuring lieth 
by the favourite, it is impossible any other 
should be over-great. Another means to 
curb them is, to balance them by others as 
proud as they. But then there must be some 
middle counsellors, to keep things steady; 
for without that ballast the ship will roll 
too much. At the least, a prince may ani- 
mate and inure some meaner persons, to be 
as it -were scourges to ambitious men. As 
for the having of them obnoxious to ruin; 
if they be of fearful natures, it may do well ; 
but if they be stout and daring, it may pre- 
cipitate their designs, and prove dangerous. 
As for the pulling of them down, if the 
affairs require it, and that it may not be 
done with safety suddenly, the only way is, 
the interchange continually of favours and 
disgraces; whereby they may not know what 
to expect, and be as it were in a wood. Of 
ambitions, it is less harmful, the ambition to 
prevail in great things, than that other to 
appear in every thing; for that breeds con- 
108 



Of Nature in Men 

fusion, and mars business. But yet, it is less 
danger to have an ambitious man stirring 
in business, than great in dependances. He 
that seeketh to be eminent amongst able 
men hath a great task ; but that is ever 
good for the public. But he that plots to be 
the only figure amongst ciphers is the decay 
of a whole age. Honour hath three things 
in it : the vantage ground to do good ; the 
approach to kings and principal persons; 
and the raising of a man's own fortunes. 
He that hath the best of these intentions, 
when he aspireth, is an honest man; and 
that prince that can discern of these inten- 
tions in another that aspireth, is a wise 
prince. Generally, let princes and states 
choose such ministers as are more sensible of 
duty than of rising ; and such as love busi- 
ness rather upon conscience than upon brav- 
ery ; and let them discern a busy nature from 
a willing mind. 



OF NATURE IN MEN. 

Nature is often hidden ; sometimes over- 
come; seldom extinguished. Force maketh 
nature more violent in the return; doctrine 
and discourse maketh nature less importune ; 
but custom only doth alter and subdue 
nature. He that seeketh victory over his 
nature, let him not set himself too great not 
109 



Bacon 

too small tasks ; for the first will make him 
dejected by often failing ; and the. second will 
make him a small proceeder, though by often 
prevailings ; and at the first let him practise 
with helps, as swimmers do with blad- 
ders or rushes; but, after a time let him 
practise with disadvantages, as dancers do 
with thick shoes. For it breeds great perfec- 
tion, if the practice be harder than the use. 
Where nature is mighty, and therefore the 
victory hard, the degrees had need be, first 
to stay and arrest nature in time; like to 
him that would say over the four and twenty 
letters when he was angry; then to go less 
in quantity; as if one should, in forbearing 
wine, come from drinking healths to a 
draught at a meal; and lastly, to discon- 
tinue altogether. But if a man have the 
fortitude and resolution to enfranchise him- 
se f at once, that is the best : 

Optimus ille animi vindex laedentia pectus 
Vincula qui rupit, dedoluitque semel. 

[Wouldst thou be free? The chains that gall thy 

breast 
With one strong effort burst, and be at rest.] 

Neither is the ancient rule amiss, to bend 
nature as a wand to a contrary extreme, 
whereby to set it right; understanding it, 
where the contrary extreme is no vice. Let 
not a man force a habit upon himself with a 
110 



Of Nature in Men 

perpetual continuance, but with some inter- 
mission. For both the pause reinforceth the 
new onset; and, if a man that is not perfect 
be ever in practice, he shall as well practise 
his errors as his abilities, and induce one 
habit of both ; and there is no means to help 
this but by seasonable intermissions. But let 
not a man trust his victory over his nature 
too far; for nature will lay buried a great 
time, and yet revive upon the occasion or 
temptation. Like as it was with ^Esop's 
damsel, turned from a cat to a woman, who 
sat very demurely at the board's end, till 
a mouse ran before her. Therefore let a man 
either avoid the occasion altogether ; or put 
himself often to it, that he may be little 
moved with it. A man's nature is best per- 
ceived in privateness, for there is no affecta- 
tion ; in passion, for that putteth a man out 
of his precepts ; and in a new case or experi- 
ment, for there custom leaveth him. They 
are happy men whose natures sort with their 
vocations; otherwise they may say, "mul- 
tum incola fuit anima mea," [my soul hath 
been a stranger and a sojourner;] when they 
converse in those things they do not affect. 
In studies, whatsoever a man command- 
eth upon himself, let him set hours for 
it; but whatsoever is agreeable to his 
nature, let him take no care for any set 
times; for his thoughts will fly to it of 
themselves ; so as the spaces of other busi- 
111 



Bacon 

ness or studies will suffice. A man's na- 
ture runs either to herbs or weeds; there- 
fore let him seasonably water the one, and 
destroy the other. 



OF CUSTOM AND EDUCATION. 

Men's thoughts are much according to 
their inclination ; their discourse and speeches 
according to their learning and infused opin- 
ions; but their deeds are after as they have 
been accustomed. And therefore, as Machia- 
vel well noteth (though in an evil-favoured 
instance), there is no trusting to the force of 
nature nor to the bravery of words, except 
it be corroborate by custom. His instance 
is, that for the achieving of a desperate con- 
spiracy, a man should not rest jupon the 
fierceness of any man's nature, or his reso- 
lute undertakings; but take such an one as 
hath had his hands formerly in blood. But 
Machiavel knew not of a friar Clement, nor 
a Ravillac, nor a Jaureguj^, nor a Baltazar 
Gerard; yet his rule holdeth still, that nature, 
nor the engagement of words, are not so 
forcible as custom. Only superstition is now 
so well advanced, that men of the first blood 
are as firm as butchers by occupation; and 
votary resolution is made equipollent to cus- 
tom even in matter of blood. In other 
things, the predominancy of custom is every 
112 



Of Custom and Education 

where visible; insomuch as a man would 
wonder to hear men profess, protest, engage, 
give great words, and then do just as they 
have done before ; as if they were dead 
images, and engines moved only by the 
wheels of custom. We see also the reign of 
tyranny of custom, what it is. The Indians 
(I mean the sect of their wise men) lay 
themselves quietly upon a stack of wood, 
and so sacrifice themselves by fire. Nay the 
wives strive to be burned with the corpses of 
their husbands. The lads of Sparta, of an- 
cient time, were wont to be scourged upon 
the altar of Diana, without so much as 
queching. I remember, in the beginning of 
Queen Elizabeth's time of England, an Irish 
rebel condemned, put up a petition to the 
deputy that he might be hanged in a withe, 
and not in a halter; because it had been so 
used with former rebels. There be monks in 
Russia, for penance, that will sit a whole 
night in a vessel of water, till they be en- 
gaged with hard ice. Many examples may 
be put of the force of custom, both upon 
mind and body. Therefore, since custom is 
the principal magistrate of man's life, let men 
by all means endeavour to obtain good 
customs. Certainly custom is most perfect 
when it beginneth in young years : this we 
call education; which is, in effect, but an 
early custom. So we see, in languages the 
tongue is more pliant to all expressions and 
8 113 



Bacon 

sounds, the joints are more supple to all feats 
of activity and motions, in youth than after- 
wards. For it is true that late learners can- 
not so "well take the ply ; except it be in some 
minds that have not suffered themselves to 
fix, but have kept themselves open and pre- 
pared to receive continual amendment, which 
is exceeding rare: but if the force of custom 
simple and separate be great, the. force of 
custom copulate and conjoined and collegiate 
is far greater. For there example teacheth, 
company comforteth, emulation quickeneth, 
glory raiseth: so as in such places the force 
of custom is in his exaltation. Certainly 
the great multiplication of virtues upon hu- 
man nature resteth upon societies well or- 
dained and disciplined. For commonwealths 
and good governments do nourish virtue 
grown, but do not much mend the seeds. 
But the misery is, that the most effectual 
means are now applied to the ends least to 
be desired. 



OF FORTUNE. 

It cannot be denied, but outward accidents 
conduce much to fortune; favour, opportu- 
nity, death of others, occasion fitting virtue. 
But chiefly, the mould of a man's fortune is 
in his own hands. "Faber quisque fortune 
suae," saith the poet. And the most frequent 
114 



Of Fortune 

of external causes is, that the folly of one 
man is the fortune of another. For no man 
prospers so suddenly as by others' errors. 
"Serpens nisi serpen tern comederit non fit 
draco." [A serpent must have eaten another 
serpent, before he can become a dragon.] 
Overt and apparent virtues bring forth 
praise ; but there be secret and hidden virtues 
that bring forth fortune; certain deliveries 
of a man's self, which have no name. The 
Spanish name "desemboltura" partly ex- 
presseth them ; when there be not stonds nor 
restiveness in a man's nature; but that the 
wheels of his mind keep way with the wheels 
of his fortune. For so Livy (after he had 
described Cato Major in these words, "In 
illo viro tantum robur corporis et animi 
fuit, ut quocunque loco natus esset, fortunam 
sibi facturus videretur") [Such was his 
strength of body and mind, that wherever he 
had been born he could have made himself a 
fortune;] falleth upon that, that he had "ver- 
satile ingenium:" [a wit that could turn 
well.] Therefore, if a man look sharply and 
attentively, he shall see Fortune : for though 
she be blind, yet she is not invisible. The way 
of fortune is like the milken way in the sky : 
which is a meeting or knot of a number of 
small stars; not seen asunder, but giving 
light together. So are there a number of 
little and scarce discerned virtues, or rather 
faculties and customs, that make men for- 



Bacon 

tunate. The Italians note some of them, 
such as a man would little think. When they 
speak of one that cannot do amiss, they will 
throw in into his other conditions, that he 
hath "Poco di matto." And certainly there 
be not two more fortunate properties, than 
to have a little of the fool, and not too much 
of the honest. Therefore extreme lovers of 
their country or masters were never for- 
tunate, neither can they be. For when a 
man placeth his thoughts without himself, he 
goeth not his own way. An hasty fortune 
maketh an enterpriser and remover; (the 
French hath it better, "entreprenant," or 
"remuant;") but the exercised fortune mak- 
eth the able man. Fortune is to be honoured 
and respected, and it be but for her daugh- 
ters, Confidence and Reputation. For those 
two felicity breedeth; the first within a man's 
self, the latter in others towards him. All 
wise men, to decline the envy of their own 
virtues, use to ascribe them to Providence 
and Fortune; for so they may the better 
assume them : and, besides, it is greatness in 
a man to be the care of the higher powers. 
So Caesar said to the pilot in the tempest, 
"Caesarem portas, et fortunam ejus:" [You 
carry Caesar and his fortune.] So Sylla 
chose the name of "Felix," and not of "Mag- 
nus." And it hath been noted, that those 
who ascribe openly too much to their own 
wisdom and policy, end infortunate. It is 
116 



Of Usury 

written that Timotheus the Athenian, after 
he had, in the account he gave to the state 
of his government, often interlaced this 
speech, "and in this Fortune had no part," 
never prospered in any thing he undertook 
afterwards. Certainly there be, whose for- 
tunes are like Homer's verses, that have a 
slide and easiness more than the verses of 
other poets; as Pltitarch saith of Timoleon's 
fortune, in respect of that of Agesilaus or 
Epaminondas. And that this should be, no 
doubt it is much in a man's self. 



OF USURY. 

Many have made witty invectives against 
Usury. They say that it is pity the devil 
should have God's part, which is the tithe. 
That the usurer is the greatest sabbath- 
breaker, because his plough goeth every 
Sunday. That the usurer is the drone that 
Virgil speaketh of; 

Ignavum fucos pecus a praesepibiis arcent; 

That the usurer breaketh the first law that 
was made for mankind after the fall, which 
was "in sudore vultus tui comedes panem 
tuum;" not "in sudore vultus alieni;" [in 
the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread — 
not, in the sweat of another's face.] That 
117 



Bacon 

usurers should have orange-tawny bonnets, 
because they do judaize. That it is against 
nature for money to beget money; and the 
like. I say this only, that usury is a "con- 
cessum propter duritiem cordis:" [a thing 
allowed by reason of the hardness of men's 
hearts:] for since there must be borrowing 
and lending, and men are so hard of heart as 
they will not lend freely, usury must be per- 
mitted. Some others have made suspicious 
and cunning propositions of banks, discovery 
of men's estates, and other inventions. But 
few have spoken of usury usefully. It is 
good to set before us the incommodities and 
commodities of usury, that the good may be 
either weighed out or culled out ; and warily 
to provide, that, while we make forth to 
that which is better, we meet not with that 
which is worse. 

The discommodities of usury are, First, 
that it makes fewer merchants. For were it 
not for this lazy trade of usury, money 
would not lie still, but "would in great part 
be employed upon merchandizing; which is 
the "vena porta" of wealth in a state. The 
second, that it makes poor merchants. For 
as a farmer cannot husband his grounds so 
-well if he sit at a great rent; so the mer- 
chant cannot drive his trade so well, if he sit 
at great usury. The third is incident to the 
other two; and that is the decay of cus- 
toms of kings or states, which ebb or flow 
118 



Of Usury 

with merchandizing. The fourth, that it 
bringeth the treasure of a realm or state 
into a few hands. For the usurer being at 
certainties, and others at uncertainties, at 
the end of the game most of the money will 
be in the box; and ever a state flourisheth 
when wealth is more equally spread. The 
fifth, that it beats down the price of land ; 
for the employment of money is chiefly either 
merchandizing or purchasing; and usury 
waylays both. The sixth, that it doth dull 
and damp all industries, improvements, and 
new inventions, wherein money would be 
stirring, if it were not for this slug. The 
last, that it is the canker and ruin of many 
men's estates; which in process of time 
breeds a public poverty. 

On the other side, the commodities of 
usury are, first, that howsoever usury in 
some respect hindereth merchandizing, yet in 
some other it advanceth it; for it is certain 
that the greatest part of trade is driven by 
young merchants, upon borrowing at inter- 
est ; so as if the usurer either call in or keep 
back his money, there will ensue presently a 
great stand of trade. The second is, that 
were it not for this easy borrowing upon 
interest, men's necessities would draw upon 
them a most sudden undoing; in that they 
would be forced to sell their means (be it 
lands or goods) far under foot; and so, 
whereas usury doth but gnaw upon them, 
119 



Bacon 

bad markets would swallow them quite up. 
As for mortgaging or pawning, it will little 
mend the matter: for either men -will not 
take pawns without use ; or if they do, they 
will look precisely for the forfeiture. I re- 
member a cruel monied man in the country, 
that -would say, "The devil take this usury, 
it keeps us from forfeitures of mortgages and 
bonds " The third and last is, that it is a 
vanity to conceive that there "would be ordi- 
nary borrowing -without profit ; and it is im- 
possible to conceive the number of incon- 
veniences that -will ensue, if borrowing be 
cramped. Therefore to speak of the abolish- 
ing of usury is idle. All states have ever had 
it, in one kind or rate, or other. So as that 
opinion must be sent to Utopia. 

To speak now of the reformation and 
reiglement of usury; how the discommodities 
of it may be best avoided, and the commodi- 
ties retained. It appears, by the balance of 
commodities and discommodities of usury, 
two things are to be reconciled. The one, 
that the tooth of usury be grinded, that it 
bite not too much; the other, that there be 
left open a means to invite monied men to 
lend to the merchants, for the continuing and 
quickening of trade. This cannot be done, 
except you introduce two several sorts of 
usury, a less and a greater. For if you re- 
duce usury to one low rate, it -will ease the 
common borrower, but the merchant -will be 
120 



Of Usury 

to seek for money. And it is to be noted, 
that the trade of merchandize, being the 
most lucrative, may bear usury at a good 
rate: other contracts not so. 

To serve both intentions, the way would 
be briefly thus. That there be two rates of 
usury; the one free, and general for all; the 
other under licence only, to certain persons 
and in certain places of merchandizing. 
First therefore, let usury in general be re- 
duced to five in the hundred ; and let that 
rate be proclaimed to be free and current; 
and let the state shut itself out to take any 
penalty for the same. This will preserve 
borrowing from any general stop or dryness. 
This will ease infinite borrowers in the coun- 
try. This will, in good part, raise the price 
of land, because land purchased at sixteen 
years' purchase will yield six in the hundred, 
and somewhat more; whereas this rate of 
interest yields but five. This by like reason 
will encourage and edge industrious and 
profitable improvements ; because many will 
rather venture in that kind than take five 
in the hundred, especially having been used 
to greater profit. Secondly, let there be cer- 
tain persons licenced to lend to known mer- 
chants upon usury at a higher rate, and let it 
be with the cautions following. Let the rate 
be, even with the merchant himself, some- 
what more easy than that he used formerly 
to pay; for by that means all borrowers 
121 



Bacon 

shall have some ease by this reformation, be 
he merchant, or whosoever. Let it be no 
bank, or common stock, but every man be 
master of his own money. Not that I alto- 
gether dislike banks, but they will hardly be 
brooked, in regard of certain suspicions. Let 
the state be answered some small matter for 
the licence, and the rest left to the lender ; for 
if the abatement be but small, it will no whit 
discourage the lender. For he, for example, 
that took before ten or nine in the hundred, 
will sooner descend to eight in the hundred, 
than give over his trade of usury, and go 
from certain gains to gains of hazard. Let 
these licensed lenders be in number indefinite, 
but restrained to certain principal cities and 
towns of merchandizing ; for then they will 
be hardly able to colour other men's monies 
in the country; so as the licence of nine will 
not suck away the current rate bf five; for 
no man will lend his monies far off, nor put 
them into unknown hands. 

If it be objected that this doth in a sort 
authorize usury, which before was in some 
places but permissive ; the answer is, that it 
is better to mitigate -usury by declaration, 
than to suffer it to rage by connivance. 



122 



Of Youth and Age 



OF YOUTH AND AGE. 

A man that is young in years may be old 
in hours, if he have lost no time. But that 
happeneth rarely. Generally, youth is like 
the first cogitations, not so wise as the 
second. For there is a youth in thoughts, 
as v^ell as in ages. And yet the invention of 
young men is more lively than that of old; 
and imaginations stream into their minds 
better, and as it were more divinely. Na- 
tures that have much heat and great and 
violent desires and perturbations, are not 
ripe for action till they have passed the me- 
ridian of their years ; as it was with Julius 
Caesar, and Septimius Severus ; of the latter 
of whom it is said, "Juventutem egit error- 
ibus, imo furoribus, plenam;" [He passed a 
youth full of errors, yea of madness.] And 
yet he was the ablest emperor, almost, of all 
the list. But reposed natures may do well 
in youth. As it is seen in Augustus Caesar, 
Cosmus Duke of Florence, Gaston de Fois, 
and others. On the other side, heat and 
vivacity in age is an excellent composition 
for business. Young men are fitter to invent 
than to judge; fitter for execution than for 
counsel ; and fitter for new projects than for 
settled business. For the experience of age, 
in things that fall within the compass of it, 
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directeth them; but in new things, abuseth 
them. The errors of young men are the ruin 
o c business; but the errors of aged men 
amount but to this, that more might have 
been done, or sooner. Young men, in the 
conduct and manage of actions, embrace 
more than they can hold; stir more than 
they can quiet ; fly to the end, without con- 
sideration of the means and degrees ; pursue 
some few principles which they have chanced 
upon absurdly; care not to innovate, which 
draws unknown inconveniences ; use extreme 
remedies at first; and that which doubleth 
all errors, will not acknowledge or retract 
them ; like an unready horse, that will neither 
stop nor turn. Men of age object too much, 
consult too long, adventure too little, repent 
too soon, and seldom drive business home to 
the full period, but content themselves with a 
mediocrity of success. Certainly it is good 
to compound employments of both ; for that 
will be good for the present, because the 
virtues of either age may correct the defects 
of both; arid good for succession, that young 
men may be learners, while men in age are 
actors; and, lastly, good for extern acci- 
dents, because authority followeth old men, 
and favour and popularity youth. But for 
the moral part, perhaps youth will have the 
pre-eminence, as age hath for the politic. A 
certain rabbin, upon the text, "Your young 
men shall see visions, and your old men shall 
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Of Youth and Age 

dream dreams," inferreth that young men 
are admitted nearer to God than old, because 
vision is a clearer revelation than a dream. 
And certainly, the more a man drinketh of 
the world, the more it intoxicateth : and age 
doth profit rather in the powers of under- 
standing, than in the virtues of the will and 
affections. There be some have an over-early 
ripeness in their years, which fadeth betimes. 
These are, first, such as have brittle wits, 
the edge whereof is soon turned; such as was 
Hermogenes the rhetorician, whose books 
are -exceeding subtle ; who afterwards waxed 
stupid. A second sort is of those that have 
some natural dispositions which have better 
grace in youth than in age; such as is a 
fluent and luxuriant speech; which becomes 
youth well, but not age: so Tully saith of 
Hortensius, "Idem manebat, neque idem 
decebat:" [He continued the same, when the 
same was not becoming.] The third is of 
such as take too high a strain at the first, 
and are magnanimous more than tract of 
years can uphold. As with Scipio Africanus, 
of whom Livy saith in effect, "Ultima primis 
cedebant:" [His last actions were not equal 
to his first.] 



125 



OF BEAUTY. 

Virtue is like a rich stone, best plain set; 
and surely virtue is best in a body that is 
comely, though not of delicate features ; and 
that hath rather dignity of presence, than 
beauty of aspect. Neither is it almost seen, 
that very beautiful persons are otherwise of 
great virtue ; as if nature were rather busy 
not to err, than in labour to produce ex- 
cellency. And therefore they prove accom- 
plished, but not of great spirit; and study 
rather behaviour than virtue. But this holds 
not always: for Augustus Caesar, Titus 
Vespasianus, Philip le Bel of France, Edward 
the Fourth of England, Alcibiades of Athens, 
Ismael the Sophy of Persia, were all high 
and great spirits ; and yet the most beautiful 
men of their times. In beauty, that of favour 
is more than that of colour; and that of 
decent and gracious motion more than that 
of favour. That is the best part of beauty, 
which a picture cannot express; no, nor the 
first sight of life. There is no excellent 
beauty that hath not some strangeness in 
the proportion. A man cannot tell whether 
Apelles or Albert Durer were the more trifler ; 
whereof the one would make a personage by 
geometrical proportions ; the other by taking 
the best parts out of divers faces, to make 
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Of Deformity 

one excellent. Such personages, I think, 
would please nobody but the painter that 
made them. Not but I think a painter may 
make a better face than ever was ; but he 
must do it by a kind of felicity, (as a musi- 
cian that maketh an excellent air in music, ) 
and not by rule. A man shall see faces, that 
if you examine them part by part, you shall 
find never a good; and yet altogether do 
well. If it be true that the principal part of 
beauty is in decent motion, certainly it is no 
marvel though persons in years seem many 
times more amiable ; "pulchrorum autumnus 
pulcher;" [beautiful persons have a beautiful 
Autumn;] for no youth can be comely but by 
pardon, and considering the youth as to 
make up the comeliness. Beauty is as sum- 
mer fruits, which are easy to corrupt, and 
cannot last ; and for the most part it makes 
a dissolute youth, and an age a little out of 
countenance; but yet certainly again, if it 
light well, it maketh virtue shine, and vices 
blush. 



OF DEFORMITY. 

Deformed persons are commonly even with 
nature ; for as nature hath done ill by them, 
so do they by nature; being for the most 
part (as the Scripture saith) "void of natu- 
ral affection;" and so they have their revenge 
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Bacon 

of nature. Certainly there is a consent be- 
tween the body and the mind ; and where 
nature erreth in the one, she ventureth in the 
other. "Ubi peccat in uno, periclitatur in 
altero." But because there is in man an elec- 
tion touching the frame of his mind, and a 
necessity in the frame of his body, the stars 
of natural inclination are sometimes ob- 
scured by the sun of discipline and virtue. 
Therefore it is good to consider of deformity, 
not as a sign, which is more deceivable ; but 
as a cause, which seldom faileth of the effect. 
Whosoever hath any thing fixed in his person 
that doth induce contempt, hath also a per- 
petual spur in himself to rescue and deliver 
himself from scorn. Therefore all deformed 
persons are extreme bold. First, as in their 
own defence, as being exposed to scorn ; but 
in process of time by a general habit. Also 
it stirreth in them industry, and especially of 
this kind, to watch and observe the weakness 
of others, that they may have somewhat to 
repay. Again, in their superiors, it quench- 
eth jealousy towards them, as persons that 
they think they may at pleasure despise : arid 
it layeth their competitors and emulators 
asleep; as never believing they should be in 
possibility of advancement, till they see them 
in possession. So that upon the matter, in 
a great wit, deformity is an advantage to 
rising. Kings in ancient times (and at this 
present in some countries) were wont to put 
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Of Building 

great trust in eunuchs ; because they that are 
envious towards all are more obnoxious and 
officious towards one. But yet their trust 
towards them hath rather been as to good 
spials and good whisperers, than good mag- 
istrates and officers. And much like is the 
reason of deformed persons. Still the ground 
is, they will, if they be of spirit, seek to free 
themselves from scorn ; which must be either 
by virtue or malice ; and therefore let it not 
be marvelled if sometimes they prove excel- 
lent persons; as was Agesilaus, danger the 
son of Solyman, ^Esop, Gasca President of 
Peru ; and Socrates may go likewise amongst 
them; with others. 



OF BUILDING. 

Houses are built to live in, and not to look 
on; therefore let use be preferred before uni- 
formity, except where both may be had. 
Leave the goodly fabrics of nouses, for 
beauty only, to the enchanted palaces of the 
poets ; who build them with small cost. He 
that builds a fair house upon an ill seat, 
committeth himself to prison. Neither do I 
reckon it an ill seat only where the air is un- 
wholesome; but likewise where the air is 
unequal ; as you shall see many fine seats set 
upon a knap of ground, environed with 
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Bacon 

higher hills round about it ; whereby the heat 
of the sun is pent in, and the wind gathereth 
as in troughs ; so as you shall have, and that 
suddenly, as great diversity of heat and cold 
as if you dwelt in several places. Neither is 
it ill air only that maketh an ill seat, but ill 
ways, ill markets: and, if you will consult 
with Momus, ill neighbours. I speak not of 
many more; want of water; want of wood, 
shade, and shelter ; want of fruitfulness, and 
mixture of grounds of several natures; want 
of prospect ; want of level grounds ; want of 
places at some near distance for sports of 
hunting, hawking, and races; too near the 
sea, too remote; having the commodity of 
navigable rivers, or the discommodity of 
their overflowing; too far off from great 
cities, which may hinder business, or too 
near them, which lurcheth all provisions, and 
maketh every thing dear ; where a man hath 
a great living laid together, and where he is 
scanted : all which, as it is impossible per- 
haps to find together, so it is good to 
know them, and think of them, that a man 
may take as many as he can ; and if he have 
several dwellings, that he sort them so, that 
what he wanteth in the one he may find in 
the other. Lucullus answered Pompey well ; 
who, when he saw his stately galleries, and 
rooms so large and lightsome, in one of his 
houses, said, "Surely an excellent place for 
summer, but how do you in winter?" Lucul- 
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Of Building 

lus answered, "Why, do you not think me as 
wise as some fowl are, that ever change their 
abode towards the winter?" 

To pass from the seat to the house itself; 
we will do as Cicero doth in the orator's art, 
who writes books "De Oratore," and a book 
he entitles "Orator;" whereof the former 
delivers the precepts of the art, and the latter 
the perfection. We will therefore describe a 
princely palace, making a brief model thereof. 
For it is strange to see, now in Europe, such 
huge buildings as the Vatican and Escurial 
and some others be, and yet scarce a very 
fair room in them. 

First therefore, I say you cannot have a 
perfect palace, except you have two several 
sides ; a side for the banquet, as is spoken of 
in the book of Hester, and a side for the 
household; the one for feasts and triumphs, 
and the other for dwelling. I understand 
both these sides to be not only returns, but 
parts of the front ; and to be uniform with- 
out, though severally partitioned within ; and 
to be on both sides of a great and stately 
tower in the midst of the front, that, as it 
were, joineth them together on either hand. 
I would have on the side of the banquet, in 
front, one only goodly room above stairs, of 
some forty foot high; and under it a room 
for a dressing or preparing place at times of 
triumphs. On the other side, which is the 
household side, I wish it divided at the first 
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Bacon 

into a hall and a chapel, (with a partition 
between;) both of good state and bigness; 
and those not to go all the length, but to 
have at the further end a winter and a sum- 
mer parlour, both fair. And under these 
rooms, a fair and large cellar sunk under 
ground; and likewise some privy kitchens, 
with butteries, and pantries, and the like. 
As for the tower, I would have it two stories, 
of eighteen foot high a piece, above the two 
wings; and a goodly leads upon the top, 
railed with statua's interposed; and the 
same tower to be divided into rooms, as 
shall be thought fit. The stairs likewise to 
the upper rooms, let them be upon a fair 
open newel, and finely railed in with images 
of wood, cast into a brass colour; and a very 
fair landing-place at the top. But this to be, 
if you do not point any of the lower rooms 
for a dining place of servants. For otherwise 
you shall have the servants' dinner after 
your own : for the steam of it will come up 
as in a tunnel. And so much for the front. 
Only I understand the height of the first 
stairs to be sixteen foot, which is the height 
of the lower room. 

Beyond this front is there to be a fair 
court, but three sides of it, of a far lower 
building than the front. And in all the four 
corners of that court fair staircases, cast 
into turrets, on the outside, and not within 
the row of buildings themselves. But those 
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Of Building 

towers are not to be of the height of the 
front, but rather proportionable to the lower 
building. Let the court not be paved, for 
that striketh up a great heat in summer, and 
much cold in winter. But only some side 
alleys, with a cross, and the quarters to 
graze, being kept shorn, but not too near 
shorn. The row of return on the banquet 
side, let it be all stately galleries : in which 
galleries let there be three, or five, fine cupo- 
las in the length of it, placed at equal dis- 
tance; and fine coloured windows of several 
works. On the household side, chambers of 
presence and ordinary entertainments, with 
some bed-chambers ; and let all three sides be 
a double house, without thorough lights on 
the sides, that you may have rooms from the 
sun, both for forenoon and afternoon. Cast 
it also, that you may have rooms both for 
summer and winter ; shady for summer, and 
warm for winter. You shall have sometimes 
fair houses so full of glass, that one cannot 
tell where to become to be out of the sun or 
cold. For inbowed windows, I hold them of 
good use; (in cities, indeed, upright do bet- 
ter, in respect of the uniformity towards the 
street ; ) for they be pretty retiring places for 
conference; and besides, they keep both the 
wind and sun off; for that which would 
strike almost thorough the room doth scarce 
pass the window. But let them be but few, 
four in the court, on the sides only. 
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Bacon 

Beyond this court, let there be an inward 
court, of the same square and height ; which 
is to be environed with the garden on all 
sides; and in the inside, cloistered on all 
sides, upon decent and beautiful arches, as 
high as the first story. On the under story, 
towards the garden, let it be turned to a 
grotta, or place of shade, or estivation. And 
only have opening and windows towards the 
garden ; and be level upon the floor, no whit 
sunken under ground, to avoid all dampish- 
ness: and let there be a fountain, or some 
fair work of statua's in the midst of this 
court; and to be paved as the other court 
was. These buildings to be for privy lodg- 
ings on both sides; and the end for privy 
galleries. Whereof you must foresee that one 
of them be for an infirmary, if the prince or 
any special person should be sick, with cham- 
bers, bed-chambers, antecamera, and reca- 
mera, joining to it. This upon the second 
story. Upon the ground story, a fair gal- 
lery, open, upon pillars; and upon the third 
story likewise, an open gallery, upon pillars, 
to take the prospect and freshness of the 
garden. At both corners of the further side, 
by way of return, let there be two delicate 
or rich cabinets, daintily paved, richly 
hanged, glazed with crystalline glass, and a 
rich cupola in the midst; and all other ele- 
gancy that may be thought upon. In the 
upper gallery too, I wish that there may be, 
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Of Gardens 

if the place will yield it, some fountains run- 
ning in divers places from the wall, with 
some fine avoidances. And thus much for 
the model of the palace ; save that you must 
have, before you come to the front, three 
courts. A green court plain, with a wall 
about it; a second court of the same, but 
more garnished, with little turrets, or rather 
embellishments, upon the Avail; and a third 
court, to make a square with the front, but 
not to be built, nor yet enclosed with a 
naked wall, but enclosed with tarrasses, 
leaded aloft, and fairly garnished, on the 
three sides ; and cloistered on the inside, with 
pillars, and not with arches below. As for 
offices, let them stand at distance, with some 
low galleries, to pass from them to the 
palace itself. 



OF GARDENS. 

God Almighty first planted a garden. 
And indeed it is the purest of human pleas- 
ures. It is the greatest refreshment to the 
spirits of man; without which buildings and 
palaces are but gross handy works : and a 
man shall ever see that when ages grow to 
civility and elegancy, men come to build 
stately sooner than to garden finely; as if 
gardening were the greater perfection. I do 
hold it, in the royal ordering of gardens, 
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Bacon 

there ought to be gardens for all the months 
in the year; in which severally things of 
beauty may be then in season. For Decem- 
ber, and January, and the latter part of 
November, you must take such things as 
are green all winter: holly; ivy; bays; juni- 
per; cypress-trees; yew; pineapple- trees ; fir- 
trees; rosemary; lavender; periwinkle, the 
white, the purple, and the blue; germander; 
flag; orange-trees; lemon-trees; and myrtles, 
if they be stoved ; and sweet marjoram, 
warm set. There followeth, for the latter 
part of January and February, the mezereon- 
tree, which then blossoms; crocus vernus, 
both the yellow and the grey; primroses; 
anemones; the early tulippa; hyacinthus 
orientalis ; chamairis ; fritellaria. For March, 
there come violets, especially the single blue, 
which are the earliest; the yellow daffodil; 
the daisy; the almond-tree in blossom; the 
peach-tree in blossom; the cornelian- tree in 
blossom; sweetbrier. In April follow, the 
double white violet; the wall-flower; the 
stock-gilliflo wer ; the cowslip; flower-de- 
lices, and lilies of all natures; rosemary- 
flowers; the tulippa; the double piony; the 
pale daffodil; the French honeysuckle; the 
cherry-tree in blossom; the damassin and 
plum-trees in blossom; the white thorn in 
leaf; the lilac-tree. In May and June come 
pinks of all sorts, especially the blush-pink ; 
roses of all kinds, except the musk, which 
136 



Of Gardens 

comes later ; honeysuckles ; strawberries ; bug- 
loss; columbine; the French marigold; flos 
Africanus; cherry-tree in fruit; ribes; figs in 
fruit ; rasps ; vine-flowers ; lavender in flow- 
ers; the sweet satyrian, with the white 
flowers; herba muscaria; lilium convallium; 
the apple-tree in blossom. In July come 
gilliflowers of all varieties; musk-roses; the 
lime-tree in blossom; early pears and plums 
in fruit ; genitings, quadlins. In August come 
plums of all sorts in fruit ; pears ; apricocks ; 
berberries; filberds; musk-melons; monks- 
hoods, of all colours. In September come 
grapes; apples; poppies of all colours; 
peaches; melocotones; nectarines; corne- 
lians ; wardens ; quinces. In October and the 
beginning of November come services; med- 
lars ; bullaces ; roses cut or removed to come 
late; holly-oaks; and such like. These par- 
ticulars are for the climate of London ; but 
my meaning is perceived, that you may have 
"ver perpetuum," as the place affords. 

And because the breath of flowers is far 
sweeter in the air (where it comes and goes 
like the warbling of music) than in the hand, 
therefore nothing is more fit for that delight, 
than to know what be the flowers and 
plants that do best perfume the air. Roses, 
damask and red, are fast flowers of their 
smells; so that you may walk by a whole 
row of them, and find nothing of their sweet- 
ness; yea, though it be in a morning's dew. 
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Bacon 

Bays likewise yield no smell as they grow. 
Rosemary little; nor sweet marjoram. That 
which above all others yields the sweetest 
smell in the air, is the violet, especially the 
white double violet, which comes twice a 
year ; about the middle of April, and about 
Bartholomew-tide. Next to that is the 
musk-rose. Then the strawberry-leaves dy- 
ing, with a most excellent cordial smell. 
Then the flower of the vines; it is a little 
dust, like the dust of a bent, which grows 
upon the cluster in the first coming forth. 
Then sweet-brier. Then wall-flowers, which 
are very delightful to be set under a parlour 
or lower chamber window. Then pinks and 
gilliflowers, especially the matted pink and 
clove gilliflower. Then the flowers of the 
lime-tree. Then the honeysuckles, so they be 
somewhat afar off. Of bean-flowers I speak 
not, because they are field flowers. But 
those which perfume the air most delight- 
fully, not passed by as the rest, but being 
trodden upon and crushed, are three ; that is, 
burnet, wild-thyme, and watermints ; there- 
fore you are to set whole alleys of them, to 
have the pleasure when you walk or tread. 

For gardens (speaking of those which are 
indeed prince-like, as we have done of build- 
ings), the contents ought not well to be 
under thirty acres of ground ; and to be di- 
vided into three parts; a green in the en- 
trance; a heath or desert in the going 
138 



Of Gardens 

forth; and the main garden in the midst; 
besides alleys on both sides. And I like well 
that four acres of ground be assigned to the 
green ; six to the heath ; four and four to 
either side; and twelve to the main garden. 
The green hath two pleasures: the one, be- 
cause nothing is more pleasant to the eye 
than green grass kept finely shorn ; the other, 
because it will give you a fair alley in the 
midst, by which you may go in front upon 
a stately hedge, which is to enclose the 
garden. But because the alley will be long, 
and, in great heat of the year or day, you 
ought not to buy the shade in the garden 
by going in the sun thorough the green; 
therefore you are, of either side the green, to 
plant a covert alley, upon carpenter's work, 
about twelve foot in height, by which you 
may go in shade into the garden. As for the 
making of knots or figures with divers col- 
oured earths, that they ma}^ lie under the 
windows of the house on that side which the 
garden stands, they be but tovs : you may 
see as good sights many times in tarts. The 
garden is best to be square, encompassed on 
all the four sides with a stately arched 
hedge. The arches to be upon pillars of car- 
penter's work, of some ten foot high, and six 
foot broad; and the spaces between of the 
same dimension with the breadth of the 
arch. Over the arches let there be an entire 
hedge of some four foot high, framed also 
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Bacon 

upon carpenter's work; and upon the upper 
hedge, over every arch, a little turret, with a 
belly, enough to receive a cage of birds : and 
over every space between the arches, some 
other little figure, with broad plates of 
round coloured glass gilt, for the sun to play 
upon. But this hedge I intend to be raised 
upon a bank, not steep, but gently slope, of 
some six foot, set all with flowers. Also I 
understand, that this square of the garden 
should not be the whole breadth of the 
ground, but to leave on either side ground 
enough for diversity of side alleys: unto 
which the two covert alleys of the green 
may deliver you. But there must be no al- 
leys with hedges at either end of this great 
enclosure ; not at the hither end, for letting 
your prospect upon this fair hedge from the 
green; nor at the further end, for letting your 
prospect from the hedge through the arches 
upon the heath. 

For the ordering of the ground within the 
great hedge, I leave it to variety of device; 
advising nevertheless that whatsoever form 
you cast it into, first, it be not too busy, or 
full of work. Wherein I, for my part, do not 
like images cut out in juniper or other gar- 
den stuff; they be for children. Little low- 
hedges, round, like welts, with some pretty 
pyramides, I like well; and in some places, 
fair columns upon frames of carpenter's 
work. I would also have the alleys spacious 
140 



Of Gardens 

and fair. You may have closer alleys upon 
the side grounds, but none in the main gar- 
den. I wish also, in the very middle, a fair 
mount, with three ascents, and alleys, 
enough for four to walk abreast; which I 
would have to be perfect circles, without any 
bulwarks or embossments; and the whole 
mount to be thirty foot high ; and some fine 
banqueting-house, with some chimneys neatly 
cast, and without too much glass. 

For fountains, they are a great beauty and 
refreshment ; but pools mar all, and make the 
garden unwholesome, and full of flies and 
frogs. Fountains I intend to be of two 
natures : the one that sprinkleth or spouteth 
■water; the other a fair receipt of water, of 
some thirty or forty foot square, but "with- 
out fish, or slime, or mud. For the first, the 
ornaments of images gilt, or of marble, 
"which are in use, do well : but the main mat- 
ter is so to convey the water, as it never 
stay, either in the bowls or in the cistern; 
that the water be never by rest discoloured, 
green or red or the like ; or gather any mossi- 
ness or putrefaction. Besides that, it is to 
be cleansed every day by the hand. Also 
some steps up to it, and some fine pavement 
about it, doth well. As for the other kind of 
fountain, -which we may call a bathing pool, 
it may admit much curiosity and beauty; 
wherewith we will not trouble ourselves : as, 
that the bottom be finely paved, and with 
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Bacon 

images; the sides likewise; and withal em* 
bellished with coloured glass, and such things 
of lustre ; encompassed also with fine rails of 
lowstatua's. But the main point is the same 
which we mentioned in the former kind of 
fountain ; which is, that the water be in per- 
petual motion, fed by a water higher than 
the pool, and delivered into it by fair spouts, 
and then discharged away under ground, by 
some equality of bores, that it sta} r little. 
And for fine devices, of arching water with- 
out spilling, and making it rise in several 
forms (of feathers, drinking glasses, cano- 
pies, and the like), they be pretty things to 
look on, but nothing to health and sweet- 
ness. 

For the heath, which was the third part 
of our plot, I wish it to be framed, as 
much as may be, to a natural wildness. 
Trees I would have none in it, h>ut some 
thickets made only of sweetbrier and honey- 
suckle, and some wild vine amongst ; and the 
ground set with violets, strawberries, and 
primroses. For these are sweet, and prosper 
in the shade. And these to be in the heath, 
here and there, not in any order. I like also 
little heaps, in the nature of mole-hills (such 
as are in wild heaths), to be set, some with 
■wild thyme; some with pinks; some with 
germander, that gives a good flower to the 
eye; some with periwinkle; some with vio- 
lets; some with strawberries; some with 
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Of Gardens 

cowslips; some with daisies; some with red 
roses; some with lilium convallium; some 
with sweet-williams red; some with bear's- 
foot : and the like low flowers, being withal 
sweet and sightly. Part of which heaps are 
to be with standards of little bushes pricked 
upon their top, and part without. The 
standards to be roses; juniper; holly; bar- 
berries; (but here and there, because of the 
smell of their blossom;) red currants; goose- 
berry ; rosemary ; bays ; sweetbrier ; and such 
like. But these standards to be kept with 
cutting, that they grow not out of course. 

For the side grounds, you are to fill them 
with variety of alleys, private, to give a full 
shade, some of them, wheresoever the sun be. 
You are to frame some of them likewise for 
shelter, that when the wind blows sharp, you 
may walk as in a gallery. And those alleys 
must be likewise hedged at both ends, to 
keep out the wind ; and these closer alleys 
must be ever finely gravelled, and no grass, 
because of going wet. In many of these 
alleys likewise, you are to set fruit-trees of 
all sorts ; as well upon the walls as in ranges. 
And this would be generally observed, that 
the borders wherein you plant your fruit- 
trees be fair and large, and low, and not 
steep ; and set with fine flowers, but thin and 
sparingly, lest they deceive the trees. At the 
end of both the side grounds, I would have a 
mount of some pretty height, leaving the 
143 



Bacon 

wall of the enclosure breast high, to look 
abroad into the fields. 

For the main garden, I do not deny but 
there should be some fair alleys ranged on 
both sides, with fruit-trees ; and some pretty 
tufts of fruit-trees, and arbours with seats, 
set in some decent order; but these to be by 
no means set too thick; but to leave the 
main garden so as it be not close, but the 
air open and free. For as for shade, I would 
have you rest upon the alleys of the side 
grounds, there to walk, if you be disposed, 
in the heat of the year or day ; but to make 
account that the-main garden is for the more 
temperate parts of the year ; and in the heat 
of summer, for the morning and the evening, 
or overcast days. 

For aviaries, I like them not, except they 
be of that largeness as they may be turfed, 
and have living plants and bushes set in 
them; that the birds may have more scope, 
and natural nestling, and that no foulness 
appear in the floor of the aviary. So I have 
made a platform of a princely garden, partly 
by precept, partly by drawing, not a model, 
but some general lines of it; and in this I 
have spared for no cost. But it is nothing for 
great princes, that for the most part taking ad- 
vice with workmen, with no less cost set their 
things together; and sometimes addstatua's, 
and such things, for state and magnificence, 
but nothing to the true pleasure of a garden. 
144 



Of Negociating 



OF NEGOCIATING. 

It is generally better to deal by speech than 
by letter ; and by the meditation of a third 
than by a man's self. Letters are good, 
when a man would draw an answer by let- 
ter back again; or when it may serve for a 
man's justification afterwards to produce his 
own letter ; or where it may be danger to be 
interrupted, or heard by pieces. To deal in 
person is good, when a man's face breedeth 
regard, as commonly with inferiors ; or in 
tender cases, where a man's eyes upon the 
countenance of him with whom he speaketh 
may give him a direction how far to go ; and 
generally, where a man will reserve to him- 
self liberty either to disavow or to expound. 
In choice of instruments, it is better to 
choose men of a plainer sort, that are like 
to do that that is committed to them, and 
to report back again faithfully the success, 
than those that are cunning to contrive out 
of other men's business somewhat to grace 
themselves, and will help the matter in re- 
port for satisfaction sake. Use also such per- 
sons as affect the business wherein they are 
employed; for that quickeneth much; and 
such as are fit for the matter; as bold men 
for expostulation, fair-spoken men for per- 
suasion, crafty men for inquiry and observa- 
10 145 



Bacon 

tion, froward and absurd men for business 
that doth not well bear out itself. Use also 
such as have been lucky, and prevailed before 
in things wherein you have employed them ; 
for that breeds confidence, and they will 
strive to maintain their prescription. It is 
better to sound a person with whom one 
deals afar off, than to fall upon the point at 
first; except you mean to surprise him by 
some short question. It is better dealing 
with men in appetite, than with those that 
are where they would be. If a man deal 
with another upon conditions, the start of 
first performance is all ; which a man cannot 
reasonably demand, except either the nature 
of the thing be such, which must go before ; 
or else a man can persuade the other party 
that he shall still need him in some other 
thing ; or else that he be counted the hon- 
ester man. All practice is to discover, or to 
work. Men discover themselves in trust, in 
passion, at unawares, and of necessity, when 
they would have somewhat done and can- 
not find an apt pretext. If you would work 
any man, you must either know his nature 
and fashions, and so lead him ; or his ends, 
and so persuade him; or his weakness and 
disadvantages, and so awe him; or those 
that have interest in him, and so govern him. 
In dealing with cunning persons, we must 
ever consider their ends, to interpret their 
speeches ; and it is good to say little to them, 
146 



Of Followers and Friends 

and that which they least look for. In all 
negociations of difficulty, a man may not 
look to sow and reap at once; but must 
prepare business, and so ripen it by de- 
grees. 



OF FOLLOWERS AND FRIENDS. 

Costly followers are not to be liked; lest 
while a man maketh his train longer, he 
make his wings shorter. I reckon to be 
costly, not them alone which charge the 
purse, but which are wearisome and impor- 
tune in suits. Ordinary followers ought to 
challenge no higher conditions than counte- 
nance, recommendation, and protection from 
wrongs. Factious followers are worse to be 
liked, which follow not upon affection to him 
with whom they range themselves, but upon 
discontentment conceived against some 
other ; whereupon commonly ensueth that ill 
intelligence that we many times see between 
great personages. Likewise glorious fol- 
lowers, who make themselves as trumpets of 
the commendation of those they follow, are 
full of inconvenience ; for they taint business 
through want of secrecy; and they export 
honour from a man, and make him a return 
in envy. There is a kind of followers likewise 
which are dangerous, being indeed espials; 
which inquire the secrets of the house, and 
147 



Bacon 

bear tales of them to others. Yet such men, 
many times, are in great favour ; for they are 
officious, and commonly exchange tales. The 
following by certain estates of men, answer- 
able to that which a great person himself 
professeth, (as of soldiers to him that hath 
been employed in the wars, and the like,) 
hath ever been a thing civil, and well taken 
even in monarchies ; so it be without too 
much pomp or popularity. But the most 
honourable kind of following is to be fol- 
lowed as one that apprehendeth to advance 
virtue and desert in all sorts of persons. And 
yet, -where there is no eminent odds in suffi- 
ciency, it is better to take -with the more 
passable, than with the more able. And be- 
sides, to speak truth, in base times active 
men are of more use than, virtuous. It is 
true that in government it is good to use 
men of one rank equally : for to countenance 
some extraordinarily, is to make them inso- 
lent, and the rest discontent; because they 
may claim a due. But contrariwise, in fa- 
vour, to use men with much difference and 
election is good; for it maketh the persons 
preferred more thankful, and the rest more 
officious: because all is of favour. It is good 
discretion not to make too much of any man 
at the first; because one cannot hold out 
that proportion. To be governed (as we 
call it) by one, is not safe ; for it shews soft- 
ness, and gives a freedom to scandal and 
148 



Of Studies 

disreputation; for those that would not 
censure or speak ill of a man immediately, 
will talk more boldly of those that are so 
great with them, and thereby wound their 
honour. Yet to be distracted with many is 
worse ; for it makes men to be of the last 
impression, and full of change. To take ad- 
vice of some few friends is ever honourable ; 
for lookers-on many times see more than 
gamesters ; and the vale best discovereth the 
hill. There is little friendship in the world, 
and least of all between equals, "which was 
wont to be magnified. That that is, is be- 
tween superior and inferior, whose fortunes 
may comprehend the one the other. 



OF STUDIES. 

Studies serve for delight, for ornament, and 
for ability. Their chief use for delight, is in 
privateness and retiring ; for ornament, is in 
discourse ; and for ability, is in the judgment 
and disposition of business. For expert men 
can execute, and perhaps judge of particu- 
lars, one by one; but the general counsels, 
and the plots and marshalling of affairs, 
come best from those that are learned. To 
spend too much time in studies is sloth; to 
use them too much for ornament, is affecta- 
tion; to make judgment wholly by their 
149 



Bacon 

rules, is the humour of a scholar. They per- 
fect nature, and are perfected by experience : 
for natural abilities are like natural plants, 
that need proyning by study; and studies 
themselves do give forth directions too much 
at large, except they be bounded in by ex- 
perience. Crafty men contemn studies, sim- 
ple men admire them, and wise men use 
them; for they teach not their own use; but 
that is a wisdom without them, and above 
them, won by observation. Read not to 
contradict and confute; nor to believe and 
take for granted; nor to find talk and dis- 
course; but to weigh and consider. Some 
books are to be tasted, others to be swal- 
lowed, and some few to be chewed and di- 
gested ; that is, some books are to be read 
only in parts; others to be read, but not 
curiously; and some few to be read wholly, 
and with diligence and attention. Some 
books also may be read by deputy, and ex- 
tracts made of them by others; but that 
would be only in the less important argu- 
ments, and the meaner sort of books ; else 
distilled books are like common distilled 
-waters, flashy things. Reading maketh a 
full man ; conference a ready man ; and writ- 
ing an exact man. And, therefore, if a man 
write little, he had need have a great mem- 
ory; if he confer little, he had need have a 
present wit: and if he read little, he had need 
have much cunning, to seem to know that he 
150 



Of Faction 

doth not. Histories make men wise; poets 
witty; the mathematics subtile; natural 
philosophy deep; moral grave; logic and 
rhetoric able to contend. "Abeunt studia 
in mores." [The studies pass into the man- 
ners.] Nay there is no stond or impediment 
in the wit, but may be wrought out by fit 
studies: like as diseases of the body may 
have appropriate exercises. Bowling is good 
for the stone and reins; shooting for the 
lungs and breast; gentle walking for the 
stomach; riding for the head; and the like. 
So, if a man's wit be wandering, let him 
study the mathematics; for in demonstra- 
tions, if his wit be called away never so lit- 
tle, he must begin again. If his wit be not 
apt to distinguish or find differences, let him 
study the schoolmen; for they are "cymini 
sectores" [splitters of hairs.] If he be not 
apt to beat over matters, and to call up 
one thing to prove and illustrate another, 
let him study the lawyers' cases. So every 
defect of the mind may have a special receipt. 



OF FACTION. 

Many have an opinion not wise, that for a 

prince to govern his estate, or for a great 

person to govern his proceedings, according 

to the respect of factions, is a principal part 

151 



Bacon 

of policy ; whereas contrariwise, the chiefest 
wisdom is either in ordering those things 
which are general, and wherein men of sev- 
eral factions do nevertheless agree; or in 
dealing with correspondence to particular 
persons, one by one. But I say not that the 
consideration of factions is to be neglected. 
Mean men, in their rising, must adhere ; but 
great men, that have strength in themselves, 
-were better to maintain themselves indiffer- 
ent and neutral. Yet even in beginners, to 
adhere so moderately, as he be a man of the 
one faction which is most passable with 
the other, commonly giveth best way. The 
lower and weaker faction is the firmer in 
conjunction; and it is often seen that a few 
that are stiff do tire out a great number 
that are more moderate. When one of the 
factions is extinguished, the remaining sub- 
divideth; as the faction between Lucullus 
and the rest of the nobles of the senate 
(which they called "Optimates") held out 
awhile against the faction of Pompey and 
Caesar; but when the senate's authority was 
pulled down, Caesar and Pompey soon after 
brake. The faction or party of Antonius 
and Octavianus Caesar against Brutus and 
Cassius, held out likewise for a time; but 
when Brutus and Cassius were overthrown, 
then soon after Antonius and Octavianus 
brake and subdivided. These examples are 
of wars, but the same holdeth in private 
152 



Of Faction 

factions. And therefore those that are 
seconds in factions do many times, when the 
faction subdivideth, prove principals; but 
many times also they prove cyphers and 
cashiered ; for many a man's strength is in 
opposition ; and when that faileth, he grow- 
eth out of use. It is commonly seen that 
men once placed take in with the contrary 
faction to that by which they enter: think- 
ing belike that they have the first sure, and 
now are ready for a new purchase. The 
traitor in faction lightly goeth away with 
it ; for when matters have stuck long in bal- 
ancing, the winning of some one man casteth 
them, and he getteth all the thanks. The 
even carriage between two factions proceed- 
eth not always of moderation, but of a true- 
ness to a man's self, with end to make use of 
both. Certainly, in Italy, they hold it a lit- 
tle suspect in popes, when they have often in 
their mouth "Padre commune:" and take it 
to be a sign of one that meaneth to refer all 
to the greatness of his own house. Kings 
had need beware how they side themselves, 
and make themselves as of a faction or 
party; for leagues within the state are ever 
pernicious to monarchies : for they raise 
an obligation paramount to obligation of 
sovereignty, and make the king "tanquam 
unus ex nobis" [like one of themselves] ; 
as "was to be seen in the League of France. 
When factions are carried too high and too 
153 



Bacon 

violently, it is a sign of weakness in princes ; 
and much to the prejudice both of their 
authority and business. The motions of 
factions under kings ought to be like the 
motions (as the astronomers speak) of the 
inferior orbs, which may have their proper 
motions, but yet still are quietly carried by 
the higher motion of "primum mobile." 



OF CEREMONIES AND RESPECTS. 

He that is only real, had need of exceeding 
great parts of virtue ; as the stone hath need 
to be rich that is set without foil. But if a 
man mark it well, it is in praise and com- 
mendation of men as it is in gettings and 
gains: for the proverb is true, "That light 
gains make heavy purses;" for light gains 
come thick, whereas great come but now and 
then. So it is true that small matters win 
great commendation, because they are con- 
tinually in use and in note: whereas the 
occasion of any great virtue cometh but on 
festivals. Therefore it doth much add to a 
man's reputation, and is (as Queen Isabella 
said) "like perpetual letters commendatory," 
to have good forms. To attain them it al- 
most sufficeth not to despise them; for so 
shall a man observe them in others ; and let 
him trust himself with the rest. For if he 



Of Ceremonies and Respects 

labour too much to express them, he shall 
lose their grace ; which is to be natural and 
unaffected. Some men's behaviour is like a 
verse, wherein every syllable is measured; 
how can a man comprehend great matters, 
that breaketh his mind too much to small 
observations? Not to use ceremonies at all, 
is to teach others not to use them again; 
and so diminisheth respect to himself; espe- 
cially they be not to be omitted to strangers 
and formal natures ; but the dwelling upon 
them, and exalting them above the moon, is 
not only tedious, but doth diminish the 
faith and credit of him that speaks. And 
certainly there is a kind of conveying of 
effectual and imprinting passages amongst 
compliments, which is of singular use, if a 
man can hit upon it. Amongst a man's 
peers a man shall be sure of familiarity ; and 
therefore it is good a little to keep state. 
Amongst a man's inferiors one shall be sure 
of reverence; and therefore it is good a little 
to be familiar. He that is too much in any 
thing, so that he giveth another occasion of 
satiety, maketh himself cheap. To apply 
one's self to others is good ; so it be with 
demonstration that a man doth it upon re- 
gard, and not upon facility. It is a good 
precept generally in seconding another, yet 
to add somewhat of one's own: as if you 
will grant his opinion, let it be with some 
distinction; if you will follow his motion, let 
155 



Bacon 

it be with condition ; if you allow his coun- 
sel, let it be with alleging further reason. 
Men had need beware how they be too per- 
fect in compliments; for be they never so 
sufficient otherwise, their enviers will be sure 
to give them that attribute, to the disad- 
vantage of their greater virtues. It is loss 
also in business to be too full of respects, 
or to be curious in observing times and op- 
portunities. Salomon saith, "He that con- 
sidereth the wind shall not sow, and he that 
looheth to the clouds shall not reap." A 
wise man will make more opportunities than 
he finds. Men's behaviour should be like 
their apparel, not too strait or point device, 
but free for exercise or motion. 



OF PRAISE. 

Praise is the reflexion of virtue. But it is as 
the glass or body which giveth the reflexion ; 
if it be from the common people, it is com- 
monly false and naught, and rather follow- 
eth vain persons than virtuous. For the 
common people understand not many ex- 
cellent virtues. The lowest virtues draw- 
praise from them ; the middle virtues work in 
them astonishment or admiration ; but of the 
highest virtues they have no sense of per- 
ceiving at all. But shews, and "species vir- 
156 



Of Praise 

tutibus similes," serve best with them. 
Certainly, fame is like a river, that beareth 
up things light and swoln, and drowns 
things weighty and solid. But if persons of 
quality and judgment concur, then it is (as 
the Scripture saith), "Nomen bonum instar 
unguenti fragrantis;" [a good name like unto 
a sweet ointment.] It filleth all round about, 
and will not easily away. For the odours 
of ointments are more durable than those of 
flowers. There be so many false points of 
praise, that a man may justly hold it a sus- 
pect. Some praises proceed merely of flat- 
tery; and if he be an ordinary flatterer, he 
will have certain common attributes, which 
may serve every man; if he be a cunning 
flatterer, he will follow the arch-flatterer, 
which is a man's self; and wherein a man 
thinketh best of himself, therein the flatterer 
will uphold him most : but if he be an im- 
pudent flatterer, look wherein a man is con- 
scious to himself that he is most defective, 
and is most out of countenance in himself, 
that will the flatterer entitle him to perforce, 
"spreta conscientia." Some praises come of 
good wishes and respects, which is a form 
due in civility to kings and great persons, 
"laudando prascipere;" when by telling men 
what they are, they represent to them what 
they should be. Some men are praised ma- 
liciously to their hurt, thereby to stir envy 
and jealousy towards them; "pessimum 
157 



Bacon 

genus inimicorum laudantium;" [the worst 
kind of enemies are they that praise ;] inso- 
much as it was a proverb amongst the Gre- 
cians, that "he that was praised to his hurt, 
should have a push rise upon his nose;" as 
we say, "that a blister will rise upon one's 
tongue that tells a lie." Certainly moderate 
praise, used with opportunity, and not vul- 
gar, is that which doth the good. Salomon 
saith, "He that praiseth his friend aloud, ris- 
ing early, it shall be to him no better than 
a curse." Too much magnifying of man or 
matter doth irritate contradiction, and pro- 
cure envy and scorn. To praise a man's self 
cannot be decent, except it be in rare cases; 
but to praise a man's office or profession, he 
may do it with good grace, and with a kind 
of magnanimity. The Cardinals of Rome, 
which are theologues, and friars, and school- 
men, have a phrase of notable contempt and 
scorn towards civil business : for they call all 
temporal business of Avars, embassages, judi- 
cature, and other employments, "sbirrerie," 
which is under-sheriffries ; as if they were but 
matters for under-sheriffs and catchpoles: 
though many times those under-sheriffries do 
more good than their high speculations. St. 
Paul, when he boasts of himself, he doth oft 
interlace, "I speak like a fool;" but speaking 
of his calling, he saith, "magnificabo aposto- 
latum meum:" [I will magnify my mission.] 

158 



Of Vain-Glory 



OF VAIN-GLORY. 

It was prettily devised of .^Esop; "the fly 
sat upon the axle-tree of the chariot wheel, 
and said, 'What a dust do I raise!' " So are 
there some vain persons, that whatsoever 
goeth alone or moveth upon greater means, 
if they have never so little hand in it, they 
think it is they that carry it. They that are 
glorious must needs be factious; for all 
bravery stands upon comparisons. They 
must needs be violent, to make good their 
own vaunts. Neither can they be secret, and 
therefore not effectual ; but according to the 
French proverb, "Beaucoup de bruit, peu de 
fruit;" "Much bruit, little fruit." Yet, cer- 
tainly, there is use of this quality in civil 
affairs. Where there is an opinion and fame 
to be created either of virtue or greatness, 
these men are good trumpeters. Again, as 
Titus Livius noteth in the case of Antiochus 
and the ^Etolians, "There are sometimes 
great effects of cross lies;" as if a man that 
negociates between two princes, to draw 
them to join in a war against the third, doth 
extol the forces of either of them above 
measure, the one to the other : and sometimes 
he that deals between man and man, raiseth 
his own credit with both, by pretending 
greater interest than he hath in either. And 
159 



Bacon 

in these and the like kinds, it often falls out ' 
that somewhat is produced of nothing; for 
lies are sufficient to breed opinion, and opin- 
ion brings on substance. In militar com- 
manders and soldiers, vain-glory is an essen- 
tial point; for as iron sharpens iron, so by 
glory one courage sharpeneth another. In 
cases of great enterprise upon charge and 
adventure, a composition of glorious natures 
doth put life into business; and those that 
are of solid and sober natures have more 
of the ballast than of the sail. In fame of 
learning, the flight will be slow without 
some feathers of ostention. "Qui de contem- 
nenda gloria libros scribunt, nomen suum 
inscribunt:" [They that write books on the 
worthlessness of glory, take care to put their 
names on the title page.] Socrates, Aris- 
totle, Galen, were men full of ostentation. 
Certainly, vain-glory helpeth to perpetuate 
a man's memory; and virtue was never so 
beholding to human nature, as it received his 
due at the second hand. Neither had the 
fame of Cicero, Seneca, Plinius Secundus, 
borne her age so well, if it had not been 
joined with some vanity in themselves; like 
unto varnish, that makes ceilings not only 
shine but last. But all this while, when I 
speak of vain-glory, I mean not of that 
property that Tacitus doth attribute to 
Mucianus; "Omnium, quae dixerat fecerat- 
que, arte quadam ostentator:" [A man that 
160 



Of* Honour and Reputation 

had a kind of art of setting forth to ad- 
vantage all that he had said or done:] for 
that proceeds not of vanity, but of natural 
magnanimity and discretion; and in some 
persons is not only comely, but gracious. 
For excusations, cessions, modesty itself, 
well governed, are but arts of ostentation. 
And amongst those arts there is none better 
than that which Plinius Secundus speaketh 
of, which is to be liberal of praise and com- 
mendation to others, in that wherein a 
man's self hath any perfection. For saith 
Pliny very wittily, "In commending another 
you do yourself right ; for he that you com- 
mend is either superior to you in that you 
commend, or inferior. If he be inferior, if he 
be to be commended, you much more; if he 
be superior, if he be not to be commended, 
you much less." Glorious men are the scorn 
of wise men, the admiration of fools, the 
idols of parasites, and the slaves of their own 
vaunts. 



OF HONOUR AND REPUTATION. 

The winning of Honour is but the reveal- 
ing of a man's virtue and worth without 
disadvantage. For some in their actions do 
woo and affect honour and reputation; 
which sort of men are commonly much 
talked of, but inwardly little admired. And 
11 161 



Bacon 

some, contrariwise, darken their virtue in the 
shew of it; so as they be undervalued in 
opinion. If a man perform that which hath 
not been attempted before ; or attempted and 
given over; or hath been achieved, but not 
with so good circumstance ; he shall purchase 
more honour, than by effecting a matter of 
greater difficulty or virtue, wherein he is but 
a follower. If a man so temper his actions, 
as in some one of them he doth content every 
faction or combination of people, the music 
will be the fuller. A man is an ill husband 
of his honour, that entereth into any action, 
the failing wherein may disgrace him more 
than the carrying of it through can honour 
him. Honour that is gained and broken 
upon another hath the quickest reflexion, 
like diamonds cut with fascets. And there- 
fore let a man contend to excel any competi- 
tors of his in honour, in outshooting them, 
if he can, in their own bow. Discreet fol- 
lowers and servants help much to reputa- 
tion. "Omnis fama a domesticis emanat." 
Envy, which is the canker of honour, is best 
extinguished by declaring a man's self in his 
ends rather to seek merit than fame ; and by 
attributing a man's successes rather to divine 
Providence and felicity, than to his own 
virtue or policy. The true marshalling of the 
degrees of sovereign honour are these. In 
the first place are "conditores imperiorum," 
founders of states and commonwealths; such 
162 



Of Honour and Reputation 

as were Romulus, Cyrus, Caesar, Ottoman, 
Ismael. In the second place are "legisla- 
tors, " lawgivers; which are also called 
second founders, or "perpetui principes," be- 
cause they govern by their ordinances after 
they are gone; such were Lycurgus, Solon, 
Justinian, Edgar, Alphonsus of Castile, the 
wise, that made the "Siete partidas." In 
the third place are "liberatores," or "salva- 
tores," such as compound the long miseries 
of civil wars, or deliver their countries from 
servitude of strangers or tyrants ; as Augus- 
tus Caesar, Vespasianus, Aurelianus, Theo- 
doricus, King Henry the Seventh of England, 
King Henry the Fourth of France. In the 
fourth place are "propagatores" or "pro- 
pugnatores imperii;" such as in honourable 
wars enlarge their territories, or make noble 
defence against invaders. And in the last 
place are "patres patriae," [fathers of their 
country] which reign justly, and make the 
times good wherein they live. Both which 
last kinds need no examples, they are in such 
number. Degrees of honour in subjects are, 
first "participes curarum," those upon whom 
princes do discharge the greatest weight of 
their affairs; their "right hands," as we call 
them. The next are "duces belli," great 
leaders ; such as are princes' lieutenants, and 
do them notable services in the wars. The 
third are "gratiosi," favourites; such as ex- 
ceed not this scantling, to be solace to the 
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Bacon 

sovereign, and harmless to the people. And 
the fourth, "negotiis pares;" such as have 
great places under princes, and execute their 
places with sufficiency. There is an honour, 
likewise, which may be ranked amongst the 
greatest, which happeneth rarely ; that is, of 
such as sacrifice themselves to death or dan- 
ger for the good of their country; as was M. 
Regulus, and the two Decii. 



OF JUDICATURE. 

Judges ought to remember that their 
office is "jus dicere," and not "jus dare;" to 
interpret law, and not to make law, or give 
law. Else will it be like the authority claimed 
by the church of Rome, which under pretext 
of exposition of Scripture doth not stick to 
add and alter ; and to pronounce that which 
they do not find ; and by shew of antiquity 
to introduce novelty. Judges ought to be 
more learned than witty, more reverend than 
plausible, and more advised than confident. 
Above all things, integrity is their portion 
and proper virtue. "Cursed (saith the law) 
is he that removeth the landmark." The 
mislayer of a mere-stone is to blame. But 
it is the unjust judge that is the capital re- 
mover of landmarks, when he defineth amiss 
of lands and property. One foul sentence 
164 



Of Judicature 

doth more hurt than many foul examples. 
For these do but corrupt the stream, the 
other corrupteth the fountain ; so saith Salo- 
mon, "Fons turbatus, et vena corrupta, est 
Justus cadens in causa sua coram adver- 
sario." [A righteous man falling down be- 
fore the wicked is as a troubled fountain or 
a corrupt spring.] The office of judges may 
have reference unto the parties that sue, unto 
the advocates that plead, unto the clerks and 
ministers of justice underneath them, and to 
the sovereign or state above them. 

First, for the causes or parties that sue. 
"There be (saith the Scripture) that turn 
judgment into wormwood ;" and surely there 
be also that turn it into vinegar; for injus- 
tice maketh it bitter, and delays make it 
sour. The principal duty of a judge is to 
suppress force and fraud; whereof force is the 
more pernicious when it is open, and fraud 
when it is close and disguised. Add thereto 
contentious suits, which ought to be spewed 
out, as the surfeit of courts. A judge ought 
to prepare his way to a just sentence, as God 
useth to prepare his way, by raising valleys 
and taking down hills: so when there ap- 
peareth on either side an high hand, violent 
prosecution, cunning advantages taken, com- 
bination, power, great counsel, then is the 
virtue of a judge seen, to make inequality 
equal; that he may plant his judgment as 
upon an even ground. "Qui fortiter emun- 
165 



Bacon 

git, elicit sanguinem;" [Violent blowing 
makes the nose bleed ;] and where the wine- 
press is hard wrought, it yields a harsh wine, 
that tastes of the grape-stone. Judges must 
beware of hard constructions and strained 
inferences ; for there is no worse torture than 
the torture of laws. Specially in case of 
laws penal, they ought to have care that 
that which was meant for terror be not 
turned into rigour ; and that they bring not 
upon the people that shower whereof the 
Scripture speaketh, "Pluet super eos la- 
queos;" for penal laws pressed are a shower 
of snares upon the people. Therefore let penal 
laws, if they have been sleepers of long, or if 
they be grown unfit for the present time, be 
by wise judges confined in the execution: 
"Judicis officium est, ut res, ita tempora 
rerum," &c. [A judge must have regard to 
the time as well as to the matter.] In 
causes of life and death, judges ought (as far 
as the law permit teth) in justice to remember 
mercy; and to cast a severe eye upon the 
example, but a merciful eye upon the person. 
Secondly, for the advocates and counsel 
that plead. Patience and gravity of hearing 
is an essential part of justice ; and an over- 
speaking judge is no well-tuned cymbal. It is 
no grace to a judge first to find that which 
he might have heard in due time from the 
bar ; or to show quickness of conceit in cut- 
ting off evidence or counsel too short; or to 
166 



Of Judicature 

prevent information by questions, though 
pertinent. The parts of a judge in hearing 
are four : to direct the evidence ; to moderate 
length, repetition, or impertinency of speech ; 
to recapitulate, select, and collate the mate- 
rial points of that which hath been said ; and 
to give the rule or sentence. Whatsoever is 
above these is too much; and proceedeth 
either of glory and willingness to speak, or 
of impatience to hear, or of shortness of 
memory, or of want of a staid and equal 
attention. It is a strange thing to see that 
the boldness of advocates should prevail 
with judges ; whereas they should imitate 
God, in whose seat they sit; who "represseth 
the presumptuous, and giveth grace to the 
modest." But it is more strange, that 
judges should have noted favourites; which 
cannot but cause multiplication of fees, and 
suspicion of bye-ways. There is due from the 
judge to the advocate some commendation 
and gracing, where causes are well handled 
and fair pleaded ; especially towards the side 
which obtaineth not ; for that upholds in the 
client the reputation of his counsel, and beats 
down in him the conceit of his cause. There 
is likewise due to the public a civil reprehen- 
sion of advocates, where there appeareth 
cunning counsel, gross neglect, slight infor- 
mation, indiscreet pressing, or an over-bold 
defence. And let not the counsel at the bar 
chop with the judge, nor wind himself into 
167 



Bacon 

the handling of the cause anew after the 
judge hath declared his sentence ; but on the 
other side, let not the judge meet the cause 
half way, nor give occasion for the party to 
say his counsel or proofs were not heard. 

Thirdly, for that that concerns clerks and 
ministers. The place of justice is an hal- 
lowed place; and therefore not only the 
bench but the foot-pace and precincts and 
purprise thereof, ought to be preserved with- 
out scandal and corruption. For certainly 
"Grapes (as the Scripture saith) will not be 
gathered of thorns or thistles;" neither can 
justice yield her fruit with sweetness amongst 
the briers and brambles of catching and 
polling clerks and ministers. The attendance 
of courts is subject to four bad instruments. 
First, certain persons that are sowers of 
suits; which make the court swell, and the 
country pine. The second sort -is of those 
that engage courts in quarrels of jurisdic- 
tion, and are not truly "amici curiae," but 
"parasiti curiae," in puffing a court up be- 
yond her bounds, for their own scraps and 
advantage. The third sort is of those that 
may be accounted the left hands of courts ; 
persons that are full of nimble and sinister 
tricks and shifts, whereby they~ pervert the 
plain and direct courses of courts, and bring 
justice into oblique lines and labyrinths. 
And the fourth is the poller and exacter of 
fees ; which justifies the common resemblance 
168 



Of Judicature 

of the courts of justice to the bush where- 
unto while the sheep flies for defence in. 
weather, he is sure to lose part of his 
fleece. On the other side, an ancient clerk, 
skilful in precedents, wary in proceeding, and 
understanding in the business of the court, is 
an excellent finger of the court ; and doth 
many times point the way to the judge him- 
self. 

Fourthly, for that which may concern the 
sovereign and estate. Judges ought above 
all to remember the conclusion of the Roman 
Twelve Tables; "Salus populi suprema lex;" 
[The supreme law of all is the weal of the 
people;] and to know that laws, except they 
be in order to that end, are but things cap- 
tious, and oracles not well inspired. There- 
fore it is an happy thing in a state when 
kings and states do often consult with 
judges ; and again when judges do often con- 
sult with the king and state : the one, when 
there is matter of law intervenient in busi- 
ness of state ; the other, when there is some 
consideration of state intervenient in matter 
of law. For many times the things deduced 
to judgment may be "meum" and "tuum," 
when the reason and consequence thereof 
may trench to point of estate : I call matter 
of estate, not only the parts of sovereignty, 
but whatsoever introduceth any great alter- 
ation or dangerous precedent ; or concerneth 
manifestly any great portion of people. And 
169 



Bacon 

let no man weakly conceive that just laws 
and true policy have any antipathy ; for they 
are like the spirits and sinews, that one 
moves with the other. Let judges also re- 
member that Salomon's throne was sup- 
ported by lions on both sides: let them be 
lions, but yet lions under the throne; being 
circumspect, that they do not check or op- 
pose any points of sovereignty. Let not 
judges also be so ignorant of their own 
right, as to think there is not left to them, 
as a principal part of their office, a wise use 
and application of laws. For they may re- 
member what the apostle saith of a greater 
law than theirs: "Nos scimus quia lex bona 
est, modo quis ea utatur legitime." [We 
know that the law is good, if a man use it 
lawfully.] 



OF ANGER. 

To seek to extinguish Anger utterly is but 
a bravery of the Stoics. We have better 
oracles : ''Be angry, but sin not. Let not the 
sun go down upon your anger." Anger must 
be limited and confined both in race and in 
time. We will first speak how the natural 
inclination and habit to be angry may be 
attempered and calmed. Secondly, how the 
particular motions df anger may be re- 
pressed, or at least refrained from doing 
170 



Of Anger 

mischief. Thirdly, how to raise anger or ap- 
pease anger in another. 

For the first; there is no other way but to 
meditate and ruminate well upon the effects 
of anger, how it troubles man's life. And the 
best time to do this, is to look back upon 
anger when the fit is thoroughly over. Sen- 
eca saith well, "That anger is like ruin, 
"which breaks itself upon that it falls." The 
Scripture exhorteth us "To possess our souls 
in patience." Whosoever is out of patience, 
is out of possession of his soul. Men must 
not turn bees ; 

animasque in vulnere pontmt. 

[that put their lives in the sting.] 

Anger is certainly a kind of baseness ; as it 
appears well in the -weakness of those sub- 
jects in whom it reigns; children, women, 
old folks, sick folks. Only men must beware 
that they carry their anger rather with 
scorn than with fear ; so that they may seem 
rather to be above the injury than below it ; 
which is a thing easily done, if a man will 
give law to himself in it. 

For the second point; the causes and mo- 
tives of anger are chiefly three. First, to be 
too sensible of hurt; for no man is angry 
that feels not himself hurt ; and therefore 
tender and delicate persons must needs be oft 
angry; they have so many things to trouble 
them, which more robust natures have little 
171 



Bacon 

sense of. The next is, the apprehension and 
construction of the injury offered to be, in the 
circumstances thereof, full of contempt: for 
contempt is that which putteth an edge upon 
anger, as much or more than the hurt itself. 
And, therefore, when men are ingenious in 
picking out circumstances of contempt, they 
do kindle their anger much. Lastly, opinion 
of the touch of a man's reputation doth mul- 
tiply and sharpen anger. Wherein the rem- 
edy is, that a man should have, as Consalvo 
was wont to say, "telam honoris crassi- 
orem," [an honour of a stouter web.] But 
in all refrainings of anger, it is the best rem- 
edy to win time; and to make a man's self 
believe, that the opportunity of his revenge 
is not yet come, but that he foresees a time 
for it; and so to still himself in the mean 
time, and reserve it. 

To contain anger from mischief, though it 
take hold of a man, there be two things 
whereof you must have special caution. The 
one, of extreme bitterness of words, espe- 
cially if they be aculeate and proper; for 
"communia maledicta" are nothing so much; 
and again, that in anger a man reveal no 
secrets; for that makes him not fit for 
society. The other, that you do not per- 
emptorily break off, in any business, in a fit 
of anger; but howsoever you shew bitter- 
ness, do not act anything that is not re- 
vocable. 

172 



Of Vicissitude of Things 

For raising and appeasing anger in an- 
other; it is done chiefly by choosing of 
times, when men are frowardest and worst 
disposed, to incense them. Again, by gath- 
ering (as was touched before) all that you 
can find out to aggravate the contempt. 
And the two remedies are by the contraries. 
The former to take good times, when first to 
relate to a man an angry business ; for the 
first impression is much; and the other is, to 
sever, as much as may be, the construction 
of the injury from the point of contempt; 
imputing it to misunderstanding, fear, pas- 
sion, or what you will. 



OF VICISSITUDE OF THINGS. 

Salomon saith, "There is no new thing 
upon the earth." So that as Plato had an 
imagination "That all knowledge was but 
remembrance;" so Salomon giveth his sen- 
tence, "That all novelty is but oblivion." 
Whereby you may see that the river of 
Lethe runneth as well above ground as be- 
low. There is an abstruse astrologer that 
saith, "if it were not for two things that are 
constant, (the one is, that the fixed stars 
ever stand at like distance one from another, 
and never come nearer together, nor go fur- 
ther asunder; the other, that the diurnal 



Bacon 

motion perpetually keepeth time,) no indi- 
vidual would last one moment." Certain it 
is, that the matter is in a perpetual flux, and 
never at a stay. The great winding-sheets, 
that bury all things in oblivion, are two; 
deluges and earthquakes. As for conflagra- 
tions and great droughts, they do not merely 
dispeople and destroy. Phaeton's car went 
but a day. And the three years' drought in 
the time of Elias was but particular, and left 
people alive. As for the great burnings by 
lightnings, which are often in the West In- 
dies, they are but narrow. But in the other 
two destructions, by deluge and earthquake, 
it is further to be noted, that the remnant of 
people which hap to be reserved, are com- 
monly ignorant and mountainous people, 
that can give no account of the time past ; 
so that the oblivion is all one as if none had 
been left. If you consider well of the people 
of the West Indies, it is very probable that 
they are a newer or a younger people than 
the people of the old world. And it is much 
more likely that the destruction that hath 
heretofore been there, was not by earth- 
quakes (as the ^Egyptian priest told Solon 
concerning the island of Atlantis, "that it 
was swallowed by an earthquake"), but 
rather that it was desolated by a particular 
deluge. For earthquakes are seldom in those 
parts. But on the other side, they have such 
pouring rivers, as the rivers of Asia and 
174 



Of Vicissitude of Things 

Africk and Europe are but brooks to them. 
Their Andes likewise, or mountains, are far 
higher than those with us ; whereby it seems 
that the remnants of generations of men 
were in such a particular deluge saved. As 
for the observation that Machiavel hath, 
that the jealousy of sects doth much extin- 
guish the memory of things ; traducing Gre- 
gory the Great, that he did what in him lay 
to extinguish all heathen antiquities; I do 
not find that those zeals do any great effects, 
nor last long; as it appeared in the succes- 
sion of Sabinian, who did revive the former 
antiquities. 

The vicissitude or mutations in the Supe- 
rior Globe are no fit matter for this present 
argument. It may be, Plato's great year, if 
the world should last so long, would have 
some effect; not in renewing the state of like 
individuals, (for that is the fume of -those 
that conceive the celestial bodies have more 
accurate influences upon these things below 
than indeed they have,) but in gross. Com- 
ets, out of question, have likewise power 
and effect over the gross and mass of things ; 
but they are rather gazed upon, and waited 
upon in their journey, than wisely observed 
in their effects; specially in their respective 
effects; that is, what kind of comet, for mag- 
nitude, colour, version of the beams, placing 
in the region of heaven, or lasting, produceth 
what kind of effects. 

175 



Bacon 

There is a toy which I have heard, and I 
would not have it given over, but waited 
upon a little. They say it is observed in the 
Low Countries (I know not in what part) 
that every five and thirty years the same 
kind and suit of years and weathers comes 
about again; as great frosts, great wet, 
great droughts, warm winters, summers 
with little heat, and the like; and they call 
it the Prime. It is a thing I do the rather 
mention, because, computing backwards, I 
have found some concurrence. 

But to leave these points of nature, and to 
come to men. The greatest vicissitude of 
things amongst men, is the vicissitude of 
sects and religions. For those orbs rule in 
men's minds most. The true religion is 
"built upon the rock;" the rest are tossed 
upon the waves of time. To speak therefore 
of the causes of new sects; and to give some 
counsel concerning them, as far as the weak- 
ness of human judgment can give stay to so 
great revolutions. 

When the religion formerly received is rent 
by discords ; and when the holiness of the 
professors of religion is decayed and full of 
scandal; and withal the times be stupid, 
ignorant, and barbarous; you may doubt 
the springing up of a new sect ; if then also 
there should arise any extravagant and 
strange spirit to make himself author 
thereof. All which points held when Ma- 
176 



_ 



Of Vicissitude of Things 

hornet published his law. If a new sect have 
not two properties, fear it not ; for it will 
not spread. The one is, the supplanting or 
the opposing of authority established; for 
nothing is more popular than that. The 
other is, the giving license to pleasures and a 
voluptuous life. For as for speculative here- 
sies, (such as were in ancient times the 
Arians, and now the Arminians,) though 
they work mightily upon men's wits, yet 
they do not produce any great alterations in 
states; except it be by the help of civil occa- 
sions. There be three manner of plantations 
of new sects. By the power of signs and 
miracles; by the eloquence and wisdom of 
speech and persuasion; and by the sword. 
For martyrdoms, I reckon them amongst 
miracles; because they seem to exceed the 
strength of human nature : and I may do the 
like of superlative and admirable holiness of 
life. Surely there is no better way to stop 
the rising of new sects and schisms, than to 
reform abuses; to compound the smaller 
differences; to proceed mildly, and not with 
sanguinary persecutions ; and rather to take 
off the principal authors by winning and ad- 
vancing them, than to enrage them by vio- 
lence and bitterness. 

The changes and vicissitude in wars are 

many; but chiefly in three things; in the 

seats or stages of the war ; in the weapons ; 

and in the manner of the conduct. Wars, in 

12 177 



Bacon 

ancient time, seemed more to move from east 
to west; for the Persians, Assyrians, Ara- 
bians, Tartars, (which were the invaders,) 
were all eastern people. It is true, the Gauls 
were western; but we read but of two in- 
cursions of theirs : the one to Gallo-Graecia, 
the other to Rome. But East and West have 
no certain points of heaven; and no more 
have the wars, either from the east or west, 
any certainty of observation. But North and 
South are fixed ; and it hath seldom or never 
been seen that the far southern people have in- 
vaded the northern, but contrariwise. Where- 
by it is manifest that the northern tract of 
the world is in nature the more martial 
region : be it in respect of the stars of that 
hemisphere ; or of the great continents that 
are upon the north, whereas the south part, 
for aught that is known, is almost all sea; 
or (which is most apparent) of the cold of 
the northern parts, which is that which, 
without aid of discipline, doth make the 
bodies hardest, and the courages warmest. 

Upon the breaking and shivering of a great 
state and empire, you may be sure to have 
wars. For great empires, while they stand, 
do enervate and destroy the forces of the 
natives which they have subdued, resting 
upon their own protecting forces; and then 
when they fail also, all goes to ruin, and 
they become a prey. So was it in the decay 
of the Roman empire; and likewise in the 
178 



Of Vicissitude of Things 

empire of Almaigne, after Charles the Great, 
every bird taking a feather; and were not 
unlike to befal to Spain, if it should break. 
The great accessions and unions of kingdoms 
do likewise stir up wars: for when a state 
grows to an over-power, it is like a great 
flood, that will be sure to overflow. As it 
hath been seen in the states of Rome, Turkey, 
Spain, and others. Look when the world 
hath fewest barbarous people, but such as 
commonly will not marry or generate, ex- 
cept they know means to live, (as it is al- 
most every where at this day, except Tar- 
tary,) there is no danger of inundations of 
people: but when there be great shoals of 
people, which go on to populate, without 
foreseeing means of life and sustentation, it 
is of necessity that once in an age or two 
they discharge a portion of their people upon 
other nations; which the ancient northern 
people were wont to do by lot ; casting lots 
what part should stay at home, and what 
should seek their fortunes. When a warlike 
state grows soft and effeminate, they may be 
sure of a war. For commonly such states 
are grown rich in the time of their degenerat- 
ing ; and so the prey inviteth, and their decay 
in valour encourageth a war. 

As for the weapons, it hardly falleth under 

rule and observation: yet we see even they 

have returns and vicissitudes. For certain it 

is, that ordnance was known in the city of 

179 



Bacon 

the Oxidrakes in India; and was that which 
the Macedonians called thunder and light- 
ning, and magic. And it is well known that 
the use of ordnance hath been in China above 
two thousand years. The conditions of 
weapons, and their improvement, are, First, 
the fetching afar off; for that outruns the 
danger; as it is seen in ordnance and mus- 
kets. Secondly, the strength of the percus- 
sion ; wherein likewise ordnance do exceed all 
arietations and ancient inventions. The 
third is, the commodious use of them ; as 
that they may serve in all weathers ; that the 
carriage may be light and manageable ; and 
the like. 

For the conduct of the war : at the first, 
men rested extremely upon number : they did 
put the wars likewise upon main force and 
valour; pointing days for pitched fields, 
and so trying it out upon an even match; 
and they were more ignorant in ranging and 
arraying their battles. After they grew to 
rest upon number rather competent than 
vast; they grew to advantages of place, cun- 
ning diversions, and the like : and they grew 
more skilful in the ordering of their battles. 

In the youth of a state, arms do flourish ; 
in the middle age of a state, learning ; and 
then both of them together for a time; in the 
declining age of a state, mechanical arts and 
merchandise. Learning hath his infancy, 
when it is but beginning and almost childish : 
180 



Of Vicissitude of Things 

then his youth, when it is luxuriant and 
juvenile : then his strength of years, when it 
is solid and reduced : and lastly, his old age, 
when it waxeth dry and exhaust. But it is 
not good to look too long upon these turn- 
ing wheels of vicissitude, lest we become 
giddy. As for the philology of them, that is 
but a circle of tales, and therefore not fit for 
this writing. 



181 



^ 



Deo 20 1001 



1 COPY DEL. TO CAT. DIV. 
DEC. 10 190! 



DEC. J 6 



tm 



i .-I.. 



